


Take These Broken Wings

by flippyspoon



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Monster!Billy, Post-monster Billy, Romance, flangst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-03-13 07:23:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18936160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flippyspoon/pseuds/flippyspoon
Summary: Steve and the kids take care of Billy after he fights off the monster.





	1. Chapter 1

_ July 5, 1985 _

 

“Everybody run,” Steve said calmly. 

The kids didn’t move, of course. The kids in this case being everyone but Eleven.

They never did listen to him.

He planted his foot and twisted it, like getting a good grip at home plate. It didn’t so much make sense since he was standing on pavement, but it made him feel grounded. It gave him a very small sense of power as he bit his already split lip. His head was pounding. He felt as if he’d already gone several rounds with the abomination of a creature that crept toward them. 

It was Billy Hargrove. Or it was _maybe_ Billy Hargrove. There were two monsters, they’d finally figured out. Billy was one of them. Billy was as good as dead. Eleven had tried to get through to him in the void where she said he was hiding, except he was hiding there as a little kid. The Billy Hargrove Eleven had met was not a big, buff lifeguard grinning wolfishly at Mrs. Wheeler and giving Steve shit when he happened to stop by Scoops for a cone. The Billy Hargrove hiding in the void from the reality where he was a giant, goopy, six-legged monster, was a towheaded nine-year-old in a Little League uniform sitting on the beach just staring out at the ocean, the necklace the older Billy still wore grasped in his hand. El had told them about it.

“I tried,” she’d said, a tear sliding down her cheek. “I really tried. I think he wanted to fight it but... I don’t know... I tried.” 

El had blamed herself. And that was ridiculous. This wasn’t her fault.  Billy as a person was impenetrable even on a good day and this wasn’t even Billy’s fault. He was a monster now as much as Steve had thought of him as a monster before and Steve was pretty sure Billy was about to eat them. And if this one wasn’t Billy, it was the blonde man in the brown coat who they suspected was a Russian assassin. Nobody knew his name, only that he had been trying to kill Will and then gotten bitten by whatever had bitten Billy.

It had been a pretty crazy Fourth of July.

“Yeah, run where, Steve?” Dustin said, as he backed up against the stone wall behind them that separated the fair lot from a cliff side over the quarry. “The asshole cornered us! Where are we supposed to run?”

“We’re shit out of luck,” Mike said darkly, and grabbed Will’s hand in his own.

“Close your eyes when it happens,” Will whispered, and it sent a chill up Steve’s spine that he would think to say it.

To their left were a few carnival rides, now empty and dark and backed by tall chain link fencing. The monster, Steve knew by now, could move a lot faster than it looked. It would snap the kids right up as soon as they moved. To their right were a bunch of empty food trailers that had been selling hot dogs and ice cream until the fair had shut down. The place was fucking eerie, to Steve’s mind. Which made it the perfect place to be killed by either Billy or a Russian assassin, transformed into the looming heap of goopy exoskeleton whose snarls echoed as it crept toward them.

Steve felt a lump in his throat and took a couple practice swing with his bat. He had an urge to straighten his hat, only it had fallen off long ago. He was still wearing his uniform though and as ridiculous as it was, it made him feel somewhat like he was a military man; a man of war. Which he had been since 1983 now. 

The plan had been to lure the monster away from town. Well, mission accomplished. The plan had also been to lead it into the giant trap, built and set by the kids. It had been a good trap. At least Steve had thought so. It had not worked. It had sprung itself just seconds too late, the monster had already chased them past it. E for effort though, Steve supposed. Not that it mattered now.

They were all going to die.

“Billy!” Steve said, though he was fairly certain now that this was not Billy after all. The Billy monster had been smaller, unless it had grown again. God knew where Billy was then, probably eating everyone in Loch Nora by now. Steve wondered if he was going to go home and find out that Billy Hargrove had eaten his neighbors. His parents, at least, were in Europe all summer. “Billy Hargove! If that’s you… you don’t have to do this! If it’s the Russian guy, you don’t have to do this either!”

He heard Max crying next to him. Took a lot for Max to cry.

“I’m sorry, you guys,” Steve said quietly. He had a lump in his throat and his eyes watered. He’d sworn to protect them. He’d sworn on his own life he would protect them. He wished he could just trade his own life for theirs. He would’ve done it in a second. “I’m sorry I screwed up.”

“Wasn’t your fault,” Dustin said, his voice cracking badly.

The others all chimed in, assuring him he’d done everything he possibly could have done.

Steve didn’t feel much better.

“We tried,” Lucas said gravely, and Steve saw him grab Max’s hand. “All for one and one for all, right?”

“Yeah!” Mike said, his voice cracking.

“Right,” Max whispered.

“All for one and for all!” Will said shakily.

“Listen,” Steve said, gripping his bat so tight his fingers hurt. “I’m just gonna run at him, and the rest of you guys _go_. Maybe I can distract him.”

“Steve, no!” Dustin protested.

“Shut the hell up, Henderson, and you do what I’m tellin’ you! Just do it! Now!”

“Steve!”

Steve started running just as the monster approached, leaping on its awful backwards looking legs as the kids screamed behind him and just as the monster began to run in earnest to take out the tiny nothing of a threat swinging his nail bat, a new contender joined the fray as a second monster leapt from the wall behind them, apparently having come around from the cliff side. 

Steve heard it before he saw it; a great thundering rasp that screamed as if in agony above and behind him. He looked up to see the thing flying over his head, leaping at the larger monster as it charged toward Steve and the kids. He would’ve been certain of a third new creature, a mystery person who’d just been turned, but he saw a glitter of gold swinging from one rotten looking, goopy multi-jointed leg. The necklace Billy Hargrove always wore swung from an insectoid limb as the thing tackled his opponent and the two rolled into a fight.

“Hargrove?” Steve whispered.

The kids shrieked as the battle of the giant Upside Down bug people commenced. It was difficult to follow and even harder to want to look at as the two creatures wrestled and screamed, the slimy stuff that covered their exoskeletons flying off them so that Steve had to duck, less he get spattered with whatever the junk was. The bigger one, the Russian one, stabbed the Billy monster with a sharp leg and Billy screamed so loud that Steve slapped his hands to his ears. But he rallied and got the bigger one on his back. Then it was a blur as they knocked into carnival rides and splintered a ticket kiosk. Steve nearly got beaned by a flying plank of wood and ducked just in time. He couldn’t tell anymore who was winning.

“Hargrove?” He said again in wonder. 

According to Eleven, Billy was still conscious in there. When she had seen him in the void he had been pretty checked out, allowing the monster to take him over. But he could control it if he wanted to. As far as Steve knew, the Russian man had not known about Billy, had not been looking for Billy. Billy shouldn’t have any beef with him. The monsters were all supposed to be on the same side, turning as many humans as they could find with one sting of a venomous leg and eating the ones they couldn’t turn. They weren’t supposed to fight each other. This had all been deduced over the last few days.

Steve wasn’t the biggest brain in the world, but he was pretty sure Billy Hargrove was actually saving them at his own peril. He just couldn’t understand why.

Eleven, he supposed, had actually gotten through to him.

And... now he appeared to be losing. Black, goopy blood (or at least Steve supposed it was something like blood) gushed from a wound along Billy’s monstery new body as he screamed. Steve came to his senses and ran at the bigger one who had Billy pinned. He swung at him from the back, going for a back leg with abandon until the limb cracked in two and goop gushed out so that Steve yelled and jumped back before running around to the side to swing at his flank, screaming something along the lines of how it should die. He felt hot tears sliding down his face. He wasn’t in a very rational state of mind but it was occuring to him now that goddamn Billy Hargrove of all people was attempting to sacrifice himself for he and the kids in some final act of heroism before death and there was something too awful and sad and wonderful about that and it was making those hot tears slide down his cheeks and it was making his head pound.

There had been an antidote. It had been stuck into Billy from behind by Hopper as Billy had been tearing up his own living room, his father unconscious on the floor. It had apparently not worked and only succeeded in knocking Hopper unconscious too when Billy, still human but with some pretty enhanced strength, had thrown Hopper across the room before running out of the house and wreaking havoc all over town. 

Then he’d turned into a giant bug thing…

And now he appeared to be dying as he screamed and Steve screamed, swinging with everything he had at Blond Russian Man Monster and he was making a bit of a dent it seemed like. The monster finally turned, it’s awful gaping maw opening wide to swallow Steve, and that was apparently just long enough for Billy to raise one still functioning limb and stab the thing through what passed for a throat, impaling it so that Billy’s big stinger came out the top of its head.

Steve gasped and fell back on his butt, dropping his bat, and gaping as the larger monster screamed to the heavens and shuddered, spasming, until it finally fell back, black goo oozing from its throat, its mouth wide open.

Then it was still.

“Son of a bitch,” Steve whispered. “He did it.”

Everything was quiet then. Everything was so quiet that Steve couldn’t remember ever having heard a greater quiet. The kids approached slowly and Steve heard them muttering about the Billy monster just as Steve realized that it was still too.

Billy was dead.

“Shit,” Steve muttered. He got to his feet, somewhat painfully, as it had been a long and stressful day to say the least and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten.

“No,” he heard Max say quietly. “Not now…”

He saw her turn into Lucas and hug him and turned back, to give her privacy. The Billy horror was utterly still. He squinted at it, looking hard for breath or some sign of movement, but there was only the slow ooze of black goo as it slowly dripped to the pavement.

“He saved us,” Lucas said, his voice echoing in the emptiness. 

“He saved all of us,” Will said.

“Can’t believe it,” Dustin muttered.

“He’s a hero,” Steve said, nodding. He had not exactly known Billy well. He only recently gotten a much firmer grasp on him. Billy’s dad was an asshole who’d been hitting him all his life. His mom had died when he was little. He’d rolled his eyes at that point, when Eleven had told him about the pretty blonde in the flowered dress on the beach. It was too much. Everything made too much sense now. He didn’t see a smug Mr. Perfect Bad Boy anymore. He saw a sad, angry boy sitting on the beach, staring at the ocean, wanting to hide. 

Oh yeah, and also Billy was gay, according to Max. He frowned at the dead Billy monster before him. That revelation had been hard to swallow at first, until it had made an uncomfortable amount of sense to Steve personally. But he didn’t know if he wanted to talk about that to anyone ever.

Now Billy was a goddamn hero. 

He had a lump in his throat. Over _Hargrove_.

He stood there dumbly blinking for a minute and wiped his eyes. “Uh,” he said thickly. He bent down to grab his bat as if it might mean he knew what to do. “We should... call somebody. Find a payphone.”

Mike said, “I think I saw one by the Tilt-a-Whirl.” Steve watched him check his pockets. “Dustin, you got two dimes?”

Just then the Billy monster twitched and everyone jumped back. Dustin said, “Holy shit.”

“It’s moving!” Will said.

“What the hell,” Mike said.

“Guys, stay back,” Steve said, giving them an attempt at a look that might actually work. He approached the Billy monster and kept his bat at the ready. It had just saved them and he took pity on the thing. He was less afraid of it than wondering if he was going to have to put Billy Hargrove out of his misery. He did not relish the thought. He was pretty sure it would haunt him for maybe the rest of his life.

Billy’s limbs were moving but not like he was trying to get up. His exoskeleton was already graying and looking slightly decayed as if weeks had already passed. It was like a magic trick, and then a limb twitched again and Steve’s stomach turned as he saw it separate from the monster’s torso. It was as if somebody was shoving limbs away from the inside of the body. The leg fell to the ground and Steve grimaced, watching cracks appear in the exoskeleton, little fissures becoming large cracks as if…

_As if something’s breaking out from the inside…_

“Oh my God, Hargrove!” Steve blurted, and ran forward, losing all sense of self-interest or disgust as he pulled at a caved in section of now fragile insectoid armor and pulled it away, bring a gross web of viscera with it. The kids yelled, and he heard Mike wretch, but he gritted his teeth and used his bat to pry away chunks of monster body.

“He’s in here!” Steve shouted. “The monster is dead but Billy’s alive!”

Max yelped and ran forward, grabbing a plank of wood to help him pry off more pieces of monster until they began to see a hint of slime covered flesh quivering within.

“The antidote worked,” Lucas said behind them. 

“Just not how we thought it would,” Dustin said. “But it did cure him.”

“Maybe El cured him,” Mike said.

Maybe, Steve thought, his eyes squeezed shut he pulled at a particularly large piece of torso, Billy had cured himself. Or maybe they’d all just helped him. He supposed it depended on what exactly had been cured.

Will and Mike tore away another leg and Dustin, with much complaining, helped Max hack away at the bulk of the abdomen as Steve continued prying the tough sides away. 

All at once the remainder crumbled. 

What had been left of the Billy monster now unsupported by its armor, fell away and Billy appeared, naked and covered in goo and viscera, and curled up on the ground. 

He looked weirdly like a newborn baby to Steve, who shook his head, mildly disgusted by the idea.

But he was breathing. 

He was shuddering with great gasps, and Steve ran to kneel beside him.

Steve turned his head and shouted to Mike, “Call an ambulance on that payphone, Wheeler!”

“Yeah yeah!” Mike said. “Dustin, gimme your change!”

Dustin gave up his dimes and Steve nodded at him. “Hey, gimme your vest thing too, will ya?”

“What?” Dustin looked faintly horrified. “Steve…”

“Dustin!”

Dustin grimaced and took off the denim vest with the patches from camp he’d been wearing since he got back, tossing it to Steve, who ran to sit where he could get a view of Billy’s face. Hargrove was burrowing into his hands, as if hiding as he shook. 

“Hargrove,” Steve said quietly. Tenderly, he wiped some goop and slime away from Billy’s face or rather what he could see of it, at least so Billy’s eyes were visible. On the scale of weird shit he’d seen in Hawkins since junior year, he was pretty sure this one beat out everything else for crazy, as they wiped a naked Billy Hargove’s clean of monster goo. Billy blinked up at him with somewhat unseeing eyes and did not speak. 

Steve wondered if he was really with them there on the fairground or back in the void, looking at the ocean.

But some part of him must be here, Steve supposed. He had been conscience enough to save them.

Then Billy looked right at him. “Har... Harrington,” Billy said, gasping.

“Yeah,” Steve said, gaping at him. “Hey, man.”

It seemed too ridiculous to ask Billy if he was okay.

Billy looked at him, his icy blue eyes that usually sparkled with mayhem more than anything else looked up at Steve with something like either awe or terror. “Har... Harrington,” Billy said again. “Please…”

“What?” Steve said, afraid now that there some crucial step being missed. Would Billy die if stupid Steve couldn’t figure out what he needed? But then Billy’s hand reached out and grabbed his and Steve breathed in as Billy grasped his hand and held it firmly, staring at Steve.

“Okay,” Steve whispered. “Okay, yeah. Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay now. You’re gonna be okay.”

“Did I…” Billy muttered. “Did I... help… Did I…?”

A hysterical little laugh escaped Steve, and he nodded, squeezing Billy’s slimy hand. “Yeah. Yeah, Billy. You helped. You totally saved us, dude. You _saved_ us.” He couldn’t help but grin at Billy as he said it.

“Max?” Billy muttered.

“Yeah, oh…” Steve turned his head and yelled for Max, who approached looking tearily wide-eyed. “See? Max is right here! She’s fine.”

“Hey,” Max said softly, kneeling down beside Steve.

“Max,” Billy muttered, and he seemed to unclench, letting his head fall back as if greatly relieved. “Okay, Max…”

Max smiled a little and covered their hands with her own. “Okay, Billy.”

Steve dimly heard an ambulance siren and relaxed a little, though God knew how this was going to go down in the hospital. He supposed he would just tell the paramedics to talk to the chief of police if they wanted to know about the giant dead bug parts on the ground.

“You did it, Billy,” Steve said.

Billy blinked and look straight up at the stars over their heads and said, “Ah... I did it.”

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets a house guest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild emetophobia warning.

“Hargrove!” Steve said, and woke with a jerk. He had been sleeping in one of the uncomfortable chairs in the lobby of Hawkins General, and his neck was sore now. He wiped drool from his chin as the nurse at the front desk squinted at him. 

He had gone home eventually, after going with Billy to the hospital where Dr. Owens had appeared and drawn a thick curtain around Billy’s hospital bed. Steve had talked to Hopper and Jonathan had come to drive the kids home after they were checked out for injuries. Steve had been nearly delirious with exhaustion by then and gone home where he got about two hours of sleep before it was daylight again. He’d dressed for work and decided to go visit Billy in the hospital since the guy had saved his life and all. Billy was asleep, he was told. Max had stopped by with Lucas and said Billy had slept since his arrive and only woke up occasionally to vomit.

Steve was not due for work for a couple hours as he was scheduled for the afternoon shift. He’d sat down to drink a cup of coffee and promptly fallen asleep.

“Hey, kid,” Hopper said, walking into the lobby. The hospital walls seemed to stretch around him. Hopper always took up so much space it seemed. “Talk to me a minute.”

Steve followed Hopper down the hall and around a corner and up a flight of stairs to a dark corridor where Billy was being kept and looked after strictly by Dr. Owens. Max and Lucas had left. Steve peaked in the window and saw Billy thrashing in his bed as Owens and a nurse tried and failed to calm him.

Hopper lit a cigarette and took a long drag, glancing in the window after Steve.

“Owens says it’s amazing he survived,” Hopper said. “If he wasn’t so young and strong, he’d be dead right now.”

“Jesus,” Steve muttered. “He came through for us. I wouldn’t have believed it. Not in a million years.”

“Yeah.” Hopper sighed. “I think it’s down to my Jane. Something happened in the void between the two of them. She got through to him.”

Steve smiled softly to himself. Billy didn’t seem very happy right now but there was something hopeful about a guy like him having come through in the end, especially if it was because Eleven had helped him somehow.

“Listen,” Hopper said quietly. “Owens wants to get Hargrove out of this hospital before he attracts any more attention. And the worst is over. He’s still got some toxins in him that’ll lay him out for a few weeks but it’ll be like having a bad flu according to the doc. He’s been real moody too, I guess. But other than that...”

“Right,” Steve said, nodding. “Well, won’t he be going home?”

Hopper snorted at that. “Nope. Old man kicked him out.”

“What?” Steve shook his head. “Really? Does he know he’s sick?”

“Yeah, we came up with a nice song and dance that Owens put over on Mr. Hargrove. Delirium bla bla. I’m not about to tell a man like him what’s really going on. I almost said it was angel dust, I didn’t know how else to explain Billy trashing that house and goin’ apeshit like he did but Mr. Hargrove’s not having it. Last straw and all that. Kicked him to the curb. Now he’s just complaining about how Billy owes him money for the damage. Think it was a long time coming, tell you the truth.” Hopper took a drag and said, “Kid’s probably better off, if you ask me. My old man was a lot like Neil Hargrove.”

“Shit.”

“So listen,” Hopper squinted at him through the cigarette smoke. “I got a trailer he could stay in, but he’d be alone and it’s not in good shape right now. I don’t think it’d be good for him. I was _thinking_...since your parents are down in Florida all summer…”

“Oh.” Steve was slightly taken aback. He had a “no way” on the tip of his tongue and it would have been out of his mouth already just a week ago but now… Now things were different. He peeked through the window again. Billy was vomiting into a bucket. Owens was standing back looking vaguely concerned but he was smiling anyway. So maybe it was good vomit.“I guess that’d be alright yeah. Makes sense. We have a guest room nobody uses too. Except I still have work. Maybe I could get the kids to look after him when I’m not there.”

“It’s not the worst idea,” Hopper said. “He did save their skins. I think Jane’s got a way with him.”

“Yeah,” Steve muttered. “He did seem a lot different. After he got out of the monster thing, I mean.”

“Alright well,” Hopper nodded. “How soon can he move in then?”

“Um…” Steve checked his watch even though he’d just checked it a minute ago. “You know what, can we just do it today? I’ll just call Scoops and try to get somebody to cover me. Robin’s usually cool.”

“Thanks, kid,” Hopper said, clapping him on the shoulder. “When I see Max again, I’ll let her know we need his stuff over there.”

“You think you can bring him over for me?” Steve said, shuffling things around in his mind. “Not sure the guest room is ready for an actual guest but I if had an hour…”

“Sure, kid.”

He dug in his pocket and found some change. “Phone around here?”

“Down the hall, to the left.”

Steve ran down the hall and dug out his wallet. He still had the card with the Scoops number on it in a sleeve. It sat in front of an old picture of Nancy he’d never bothered to switch out after the break-up. Now he slipped two dimes into the coin slot and dialed the number he’d scrawled down after his first day on the job.

“Ahoy. Robin speaking.”

“Robin, it’s Steve-”

“Oh no.”

“It’s not my fault.”

“Oh lemme guess, one of those kid friends of yours laid an egg.”

“I mean you’re not very far off.”

“Okay okay. It’s fine. Marcie wanted some extra hours. I’ll call her over.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t make it a habit of it.”

“I’m _trying_.”

***

Steve dashed down the stairs when he heard Hopper’s truck pulling up. He ran out the front door and paused on the driveway, resting his hands on his hips. “Moody,” Hopper had said. Steve wondered exactly what that meant, although thrashing around in bed didn’t bode too well. He wondered if there was some emotional component to cleaning the virus out of one’s system. That had to be rough on Billy. Steve wasn’t always the most emotionally mature person in the universe, but Billy Hargrove was clearly kind of messed up and angry all the time on a good day. Steve could only guess what something like this would do to him.

_Maybe it will be good_ , Steve thought. 

The summer, he often found, made him oddly optimistic when he had little reason to be.

Hopper got out of his truck and nodded at Steve. “C’mere and help me, kid. He’s practically unconscious.”

Steve crossed to the truck and Hop waited till he was at the passenger side before opening the door. Billy had been slumped against the window and now he nearly fell out to the ground and Steve lurched to catch him, grunting as he and Hopper helped him out.

“What’s wrong with him?” Steve said, wheezing as he pulled Billy’s arm around his neck so they could drag him inside.

“He was pretty upset,” Hop said. “So they sedated him. He’s kinda zonked out. They give me medications for him. Take as needed. I don’t know if I’d use this one again but you could break one half, I guess, if he gets real riled up.”

“Hnnngggmmm.” A line of drool slid down Billy’s chin as they half carried him inside. He was wearing sweatpants and a Hawkins Police Department t-shirt and Steve realized no one had bought him clothes or anything yet. He wondered if Neil Hargrove had even asked about his son at the hospital or gone to visit.

“Please don’t barf on the carpeting,” Steve muttered, as they begin their trudge up the stairs.

Steve had barfed on the carpeting himself a couple of times. His mother had insisted he could’ve held it till he got to the bathroom. 

_And all over my pretty rose wall to wall, Steven._

Although, on the list of things Steve was truly worried about with Billy staying at his house while his parents were in Florida for the summer, the sanctity of the rose wall to wall was nowhere to be seen.

“But he’s gonna get better,” Steve said. “Right?”

“According to Owens,” Hop said, and grunted as they made it up the last couple of steps. “He was worse yesterday.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at Hop as they dragged Billy across the hall to the guest room that Steve had tidied up for the occasion. The bed had not been made and it had been generally dusty and cluttered with boxes that nobody had taken to the garage yet. Steve had cleaned it up nice. He’d changed the sheets and fluffed up the pillows and turned down the covers and realized he was doing it all for Billy Hargrove and felt like he had perhaps slipped into some other version the of the Upside Down.

“Nnnno,” Billy mumbled, as they pulled him into the room. “Nnno gggoo…”

A drop of drool fell to the carpet and Steve couldn’t help but snort a laugh. They dropped him on the bed and Steve took a moment to appreciate the way Billy lay there comically, mouth agape, half hanging off the bed. Hopper looked at him askance and Steve was sheepish as he hurried to swing Billy’s legs around and pull him further onto the bed so that his head was at least somewhere near the pillows. He rolled him on his side and stood, nodding in approval.

“Appreciate you doin’ this, Steve,” Hopper said. “If you have any trouble, you got my number.”

“Yep.”

“He’s probably gonna sleep for a day solid after what they gave him,” Hop said, shrugging. “Here, lemme show you the medications…”

Hopper kept thinking of things Dr. Owens had told him about possible side effects Billy could experience and what Steve should do in that case until Steve grabbed a pen and just started jotting everything down.

When Hopper left, Steve checked on Billy one more time, hovering in the doorway. Billy was not going anywhere anytime soon, he surmised, although the sight of his bare feet bothered Steve. He went to his room and found a clean pair of sweat socks, wrestling them into Billy’s bare feet before turning out the light and going back to his room to grab the walkie talkie the kids had insisted he take for emergencies.

“Dustin, you there?”

“Steve, you have to say over. Over.”

“Why?”

“So we know the message is over. Over.”

“It’s confusing.”

“ _Over_. Over.”

“Like that. That was confusing.”

“Just say over! Over.”

“Over.”

“No,  _after_ you say something. Over.”

Steve sighed heavily and said, “ _Fine_. Over.”

“So what is it? Over.”

“I need you to get everybody together and come to my house.”

“Over. Over.”

“Over! Jesus Christ.”

“Is this about Billy Hargrove? Over.”

“Yes...over.”

“Shit.”

“Over,” Steve said, feeling very smug.

“Oh shut up.”

**

“Are you providing refreshments?” Dustin walked in and dropped his backpack, crossing his arms and regarding Steve gravely. He had a Snoopy Band-Aid fixed to his chin where he’d scraped the ground during the fight before. Steve nodded at everyone as they walked in, looking wary as well as a little bruised. The kids all looked like they’d just been in a fight. Steve himself was sporting a thick bandage around his shin and seemingly every time he moved he found a new sore spot. 

“Uh, I have pop, I guess?” Steve said, shrugging. 

“Do you have chips?” Lucas said, absently playing with Max’s hair.

“Yeah.”

“Okay good.”

Mike and Will were carrying a giant Army duffle and they dropped it unceremoniously in the front hall. “Billy’s stuff,” Mike supplied.

“Tried to grab everything before his dad could toss it,” Max said darkly.

“His dad sounds like a real asshole,” Steve muttered. He heaved the duffle over his shoulder, though it was not as heavy as he’d expected going by how much Mike Wheeler had been struggling under it. He always forgot how little stamina Mike Wheeler seemed to possess at any given moment (Steve had seen him get winded playing Duck Duck Goose with Erica Sinclair and her pals and he’d found that sort of worrying). 

The kids followed Steve upstairs where he dropped the duffle at the side of Billy’s bed with a thunk. Billy did not stir and Steve tilted his head, leaning forward a little to make sure that he was breathing.

“He looks alright,” Dustin said, shrugging.

“He’s not,” Steve said.

“But he’ll be okay, yeah?” Max said.

“Yeah. Hopper said probably a few weeks,” Steve said, shrugging. “So he’s staying here. Problem is, I got work. And he can’t always be here by himself. He’s been really sick, it’s like a bad flu. I need help taking care of him. He doesn’t have to be watched every minute but he definitely needs looking after. Now I know I can’t make you or anything...”

“Well, I will,” Max said. “He’s my brother. And… Besides, he’ll mostly be passed out anyway. Probably.” She squeezed Lucas’s arm and said, “But I get it, if you don’t want to.”

“Nah. I’ll do it.” Lucas looked at Billy’s still form appraisingly. “I’m morbidly curious.”

Steve clocked the phrase “morbidly curious” as having been picked up from Max and her little smirk in response, he took as confirmation.

“I’m going to,” Will said quickly, appearing from behind Eleven. “I think… I know he was a jerk before and all that but I think maybe...maybe turning into a monster changed him? And I know what that’s like anyway.”

“I don’t have anything better to do,” Mike said, shrugging. “As long as El is going?”

“I’ll come,” Eleven said simply.

Everyone looked at Dustin. Steve suspected that Dustin’s involvement had been a hot topic of discussion on the way over and now he threw up his hands.

“He saved your life, jerk,” Max said. 

“You _hate_ him!” Dustin said.

“Only...partly,” Max said, her eyes roving around the room. “Besides, that’s not the point. What happened to ‘all for one and one for all?’”

“Jesus, does that include Billy now?” Dustin said.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “I mean he’s not staying in my house because he’s my best friend, dude.”

“Oh my God, fine!” Dustin said. “But I want some pop and chips, please.”

***

“He looks okay to me,” Dustin said later as the horde of fourteen-year-olds stared down at Billy, sprawled on the guest room bed.

“That’s because he’s sedated,” Steve said. “Hop left some medications for him just in case.”

Dustin’s eyes lit up to a suspicious degree. “We can sedate him?”

“Well, I’m not trusting _you_ with the pills.”

“I can be in charge of that,” Max said.

“That’s fine,” Steve said. “And if he _really_ needs one, Dr. Owens suggested cutting one in half or even smaller than that. They knock him out for a really long time.”

“Heh. He’s drooling,” Lucas said. “He looks so goofy like that with this mouth hanging open.”

“Yeah, I have no idea what he’s going to be like when he’s awake,” Steve said darkly. He nodded at Eleven who had been gazing at Billy the whole time, a soft smile on her face. “You’re the last one who really talked to him. Like when he was fully conscious and everything. In the void, right? What happened? Why did he save us? It’s not exactly like him.”

Eleven frowned at him and said, “It’s private.”

“I’ve asked her,” Max said, shrugging. “She won’t even tell me.”

“She won’t even tell _me_ ,” Mike said, earning an eye roll from Max.

“Okay,” Steve said, sighing. “Well, hopefully he doesn’t wake up and become the Incredible Hulk or something.”

“Well, if he was the Hulk,” Dustin said, clearing his throat, “then he’d _leave_ because he’d be wandering around helping people, since I’m assuming you’re talking about the TV show, unless you mean the _comics_ in which case-”

“Dustin.”

“Am I doing the thing again?”

“Are you ever.”

“ _Fine_.”

“Anyway,” Steve said, narrowing his eyes. “I leave for work at eight most days. I’m gonna need somebody here. You guys can fix yourselves a rotating schedule if you want-”

“Eight o’clock!” Lucas yelped. “In _summer_?”

“You’ll live,” Steve cracked. “Also, I think there should be two of you here at a time. Just in case, ya know, of an accident or...something.”

“In case he does become the Hulk,” Dustin said darkly.

“If he becomes the Hulk, two of you aren’t going to be helpful,” Steve said. “But the sedatives might be.”

***

Steve explained about the medications. He relayed everything Hopper had told him, much of which Max already knew at least. Billy could wake up delirious or delusional. He could have hallucinations, visual or auditory. He still had a lot of poison in him. He had to sweat it out. It wouldn’t be easy but he’d survive. He was going to be weak as a kitten for a while.

Steve had smiled when Hopper had put it that way. There was something about the thought of Billy Hargrove rendered “weak as a kitten” that amused him and not even in a mean way.

The kids were full of pop and chips by the time Steve was finished and then they immediately starting arguing over who would have to come over first until Steve interrupted them again.

“Guys, guys, guys,” Steve said. “Did I mention, you can all use the pool when you come over?”

The kid’s eyes got big and they immediately started arguing over who _got_ to come over first, excepting Eleven and Will who seemed pretty agreeable with whatever everyone else decided. Finally, it was decided that they would _all_ come over on the first day, though Steve suspected that had more to do with the pool than anything else. Dustin and Max didn’t mind getting up so early and agreed to come over by eight.

“Fine,” Steve said. “I’ll make sure there’s food too. Just...don’t eat me out of house and home alright?”

“Yes, Steve,” they all said.

“Alright,” Steve said. “God help me.”

When the kids had gone, Steve was left alone with Billy Hargrove for the night and he trudged back up the stairs to check on his charge. Billy had moved slightly. Now he was curled up on his side, still atop the blankets, except he was shuddering uncontrollably as if he were freezing to death, even though it could not have been less than seventy-two degrees in the house. He seemed only semi-conscious, muttering in his sleep. Steve sighed and took up his first task as caretaker for Billy Hargrove and yanked all the covers down from beneath Billy, rolling him one way and then the next as he tugged the blankets over him. Billy moaned and whimpered, turning his head one way and another. Steve tucked the blankets up around Billy and he shivered a bit less, although he still seemed cold. Now that Steve had turned the lights on to check on him, he could take a long look at Billy’s face now poking out from the blankets. His brow was furrowed in sleep and Steve wondered if he was dreaming of the monster. His eyelashes fluttered too and if Steve looked hard he could see the quick movement of his eyes beneath his lids. His eyelashes, Steve now noticed, were exceptionally long and thick; two little feathered fronds fluttering beneath a pair of heavy brows. Steve had never noticed that before.

Steve sighed and sat on the floor, regarding Billy, the guy who had beaten him half to death once and who had also just saved his life.

“Why’d you do it, man?” Steve muttered, staring at his patient, and wasn’t sure which of those two deeds he was asking about.


	3. Chapter 3

“Hey, Max,” Dustin said, nodding at Max as they came from different directions to meet on the sidewalk in front of Steve’s house. 

Max tossed him a nod, her backpack bouncing, her back already sweaty from the early morning warmth of Hawkins in July, even in her tank top and shorts. Dustin was carrying a backpack too and a giant Tupperware container which he cradled in his arms as they walked up to Steve’s door at exactly 7:51 AM.

“Do you like muffins?” Dustin said, and reflexively reached under the doormat for the spare key. Hawkins wasn’t so much of a lock-your-door kind of town but everyone who’d ever come across a demogorgon and lived to tell the tale was a little more careful about such things and at least locked their doors at night even as they admitted to each other that a locked door was going to do exactly nothing to stop an intruding demogorgon. Dustin let them inside and handed the Tupperware to Max as he hid the key under the mat again but they left the door unlocked now that it was daytime.

“Muffins?” Max said. “Sure, I like muffins.”

They could hear Steve stomping around upstairs and Max followed Dustin into the kitchen as he set the Tupperware container on the kitchen table. “I told my mom we were taking care of your sick brother and she thought it was, quote unquote, ‘so adorable, Dusty,’” Dustin said, rolling his eyes. “So she made us muffins. I also got a thing of chicken soup in my backpack.”

Max nodded approvingly and went at the Tupperware, taking out a blueberry muffin. “Thanks! I don’t know if Billy’s eating yet though. Even soup.”

“Eh.” Dustin shrugged. “It’ll keep for a while.” He bit his lip, taking out the container of soup he’d wrapped up carefully in his backpack and stowing it in the fridge while grabbing a Hi-C. “You want a Hi-C?”

“Yep, thanks.” He tossed her a Cherry and she caught it neatly in her hand just as Steve came jogging in, dressed in his ridiculous Scoops uniform.

“Hey, guys,” Steve said. “Thanks for getting here so early. So um...I left all my notes and everything on the dresser up there and the medications are in the bathroom just in case-”

“You explained all this,” Dustin said. “We got it. And everybody else will be here in a couple hours. It’s fine, Steve.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m just...saying.” He sighed heavily and stuck his sailor head on his head. “Okay then. You guys good?”

“Yeah, here take a muffin.” Dustin held out the Tupperware and grinned, and Steve, seemingly befuddled, took a muffin, nodding his thanks.

When he was gone, Dustin trilled his lips and glared in the general direction of the stairs. Max sighed heavily enough that she was clearly making a point, and left her muffin and her juice on the kitchen table as she turned to make her way up.

“I’m just going to go check on him.”

“Hmmph,” Dustin said in response, his mouth full of muffin.

Dustin, having lost the master of Dig Dug to Lucas (not that you could lose somebody you never had), had also lost all sense of romantic interest in Max. He’d also decided she was “kind of a know-it-all” which made Lucas laugh his ass off and claim that really half the group was made of know-it-alls, Dustin being the worst offender, and Dustin was just mad he had more competition. Dustin had resented that remark and dutifully tried not to think about it too much. He still liked Max okay, but she had given him a run for his money and he hadn’t expected that.

Max returned in a few seconds, trotting down the stairs and then leaning on the counter, nibbling on her muffin.

“How is he?” Dustin said.

“Asleep.” Max shrugged lazily.

Dustin had imagined a few different scenarios for taking care of Billy Hargrove. Most of them had involved disgusting bodily fluids and he was not looking forward to the possibility of dealing with anything related to them. But he had not quite imagined that if Billy was just fine, that left a whole lot of free time for what exactly?

“That’s good,” Dustin mumbled.

“Yep. Doesn’t really...need anything.” Max frowned, perhaps coming to her own existential epiphany at the same time as Dustin. “What do we do now? It’s too early to swim.”

Dustin was very much looking forward to swimming in a pool that wasn’t full of little kids and old people but he had imagined everyone else there too, and just swimming with Max without the others seemed weird somehow and he didn’t want to get bored with swimming before lunch.

It was 8:04AM and they were already bored.

Abruptly, Dustin remembered the Harrington’s “fancy toy” or at least that’s how Steve had described it; a hip little gadget that was all the rage and which the Harringtons, excepting Steve, never used. Further, in Dustin’s opinion, Steve wasn’t using it like he should.   
“Hey…” Dustin grinned a semi-toothy grin at Max and said, “Did you know Steve has a Macintosh?”

“No way,” Max said flatly. “Is it cool if we use it?”   


“He’s let me before,” Dustin said and grabbed his muffin and Hi-C, walking backward in the direction of the stairs and up to Steve’s room where a bunch of space had been cleared on Steve’s desk for the Apple Macintosh 128k in it’s modest little case and with its friendly little screen, the little mouse on a cord connected to it and just waiting to be clicked.

Dustin had rarely seen Max so psyched and he upped the ante now and proudly said, is if it were his own accomplishment (because it really was), “He’s got a bunch of games too. Enchanted Scepters is really cool.”

“Rad,” Max whispered. But now she frowned up in confusion at Dustin and said, “Steve plays computer games?”

“Well, I uh...may have suggested he get them.”

She cackled at that, following him into Steve’s room. “Cool.”

Dustin once again felt the odd sensation of walking into a friend’s room, and not just a regular friend. Walking into any other kid’s room was always a little weird the first time, like walking onto another planet, until you’d been there a hundred times. Steve’s room was even weirder because he wasn’t a kid at all, but he wasn’t quite a  _ real _ adult either, and his bedroom reeked of both money and the intrigue of an older guy who’d  _ done things _ . It was a palace of mysteries to Dustin even as Steve wasn’t a very mysterious person.

Steve’s room was a little stuffy and warm and it smelled like sweat and laundry. It was also a bit of a disaster. Dustin suspected that was because his parents were away all summer. 

“Ugh.” He kicked dirty laundry out of the way and saw Max grimace at the sight of briefs on the floor. He cleared off the desk chair and sat down to boot up the Macintosh It sat on Steve’s desk by the window that looked out on the pool where Barb had died, and to the dark wood beyond it.

“Whoa,” Max said, when the little floppy disk icon appeared.

“Yeah,” Dustin said, grinning from ear to ear. “Pretty cool.”

* * *

A few disk swappings and two muffins later and Max was in the desk chair, hunched forward, frowning at the screen. They had checked on Billy a few times. He had slightly changed positions. But still, he slept.

“I don’t know which scepter will kill me!” She said, moving the mouse around just to see the little arrow fly across the screen. A black and white pixelated wizard was glaring at her with angry eyebrows. “Which one am I  _ supposed _ to take?”

“I don’t know either!” Dustin said, shrugging. “There are supposed to be clues and I haven’t cracked em’ yet.”

“Hey, guys?” Lucas’s voice echoed from the stairwell and Max grinned, hopping up from her seat and dashing out of the room to meet him. Dustin could hear Lucas and Will and the low murmur that was usually Eleven. Mike would probably be late because Mike was always late these days. Dustin took the opportunity to sit back in the desk chair and dive into the game himself. 

“Holy shit!” Lucas said, trotting into Steve’s room. “I forgot Steve had an Apple!”

“Yeah, I’ve messed around with it a little bit,” Dustin said. “But now we got all the time in the world and there are a  _ bunch _ of games…”

Mike appeared, shockingly not late, and hovered in the doorway, curling his lip at the squalor that was Steve’s room. “Aren’t we supposed to like...watch Billy?”

With great reluctance, Dustin stood and trudged out of the room, casting Mike a dirty look. He joined Will and Eleven and Max in the guest room. Billy was still sprawled on the bed, breathing and dead to the world.

Mike joined him and crossed his arms.

“You want to watch him sleep for…” Dustin checked his watch. “The next six hours?”

Mike chewed his lip, glanced at Dustin, and abruptly bolted for the Apple.

“Hey, no fair!” Dustin grimaced, straightening his cap, and chased after him.

* * *

At three o’clock in the afternoon, Billy Hargrove woke up.

The kids were swimming. They had fought with Enchanted Scepters for another hour, wandered around Steve’s house, eaten lunch, and finally opted for the pool. Dustin was not surprised that Will and Eleven seemed a little more devoted to the actual task at hand and more often volunteered to check on Billy who, until three, had not stirred. Max too put a little more effort into actually taking care of Billy, though she was good naturedly begrudging about it. But Dustin had noticed that since Billy’s feat of heroism, she had gone a little soft on her brother. She seemed to be waiting until he was more recovered and able to speak for himself again, before she made a final determination on her feelings about Billy one way or the other. 

About five after three, Max gave Lucas a long suffering look and he rolled his eyes and volunteered to check on Billy, dragging Dustin with him. They tried to check up on him every half hour and it was not too much trouble to pound up the stairs and peak your head in the door to see that Billy was at least still breathing. 

Billy was definitely still breathing this time, they saw now, as they stood in the dim room with the dark blue curtains drawn and watched Billy. He had changed positions and was now curled up on his side and very much awake.

“Oh,” Lucas said.

Billy was crying.

“Oh shit,” Dustin muttered. He cleared his throat and shook his hands out as if he might be about to lift some very large, heavy object, and approached Billy, glancing at Lucas for some kind of validation. “Uh… Hey. Billy? Hargrove? William?” He looked to Lucas and said, “Is his name William?”   


“How the hell should I know?” Lucas said, throwing up his hands.

“I dunno, you’re the one dating his sister.” Dustin walked up to Billy, stopping farther than arm’s reach of the bed. Billy’s head poked out of the covers and he clutched his blankets, and stared out at something beyond Dustin, his red face streaked with tears as he sobbed and choked. “Hey whoa. Um...hey, it’s...alright?”

Dustin looked pleadingly at Lucas who shrugged his shoulders.

“What do I do?” Dustin said.

“I don’t know!”

“Well, get Max then!”

Dustin supposed Lucas was only too happy to pound down the stairs and get out of the room and now Dustin swallowed and played with the bill of his cap again. “Hey, hey. Billy. Why’re you crying? Hey? You’re freaking out, man. Do you need...something?”

“I can’t,” Billy mumbled. 

Nobody but perhaps Dr. Owens and a couple of nurses had heard Billy speak yet since he’d “died” saving everyone. It seemed like a significant moment, Dustin thought, though he had no idea how he was supposed to mark the occasion.

“You can’t what?” Dustin said.   
“I can’t...I can’t...I...I’m dead…”

“Hey, dude. You’re not dead!” Dustin said brightly. “You made it, alright? Um…”

Dustin heaved a sigh. Talking to Billy Hargrove like he was a  _ friend _ or something still felt too bizarre.

Max came blowing in wearing a yellow swimsuit, a towel wrapped around her waist, her drenched red hair dripping on the carpeting. Everyone else was equally dripping behind her as she knelt in front of Billy.

“Billy, are you okay?” Max said. 

“Max,” Billy said. “I...I can’t…” He burst into tears again and Max turned to the small crowd of fourteen-year-olds who looked at her blankly. 

“What do I do?” Max said.

“Well, you’re his sister,” Mike said.

Max shot him a sardonic look. “Well, what would you do if Nancy was crying?”

“Run,” Mike said flatly.

“Let’s call Steve!” Dustin said, and everyone followed him to Steve’s room except Will and Max who Dustin saw remain there. Dustin found Steve’s telephone on his desk and pulled the note with the number for Scoops from his pocket. He saw in the gap between Mike and Eleven standing there through the open door to the guest room across the hall that Will was kneeling by the bed with Max, the two of them talking in hushed voices by the weeping Billy.

Dustin tapped his foot and glanced longingly at the Apple where Enchanted Scepters was still paused as they awaited Steve’s verdict on what to do with the crying Billy.

“Maybe we should give him one of those sedatives,” Dustin mumbled, as the phone at Scoops rang a third time.

“That seems extreme,” Mike said, leaning in the door. “He’s just crying.”

“Sometimes you have to cry,” Eleven said firmly. Nobody argued.

Dustin said, “Well, I’ll just-”

“Ahoy. Robin speaking.”

“Robin!” Dustin said, relief coursing through him as Billy’s sobs became yet louder across the hall. “Can I talk to Steve, please?”

“Uh...who is this?”

“It’s Dustin Henderson!” Dustin said, mildly offended. He had met Robin innumerable times at this point. He thought they got along well enough even if he could tell that Robin thought Steve’s friendship with Dustin was perhaps “weird” and “pathetic.” “This is an emergency,” Dustin added.

Robin heaved a sigh and a moment later Steve said, “Hey! What’s up?”   


“Steve!” Dustin said, gripping the phone. “Billy is crying!” He could hear through the phone the low grade chaos of a crowded mall food park in July, the ice cream parlor no doubt especially crowded considering the scorchers that had been heating up Hawkins lately. 

“What?” Steve said.

“He’s  _ crying _ !” Dustin said, bouncing impatiently on his toes. “Like he’s sobbing! He’s bawling his eyes out! He was asleep the whole time and then this!”

“Dustin…”

“We don’t know what to do!”

“Is he hurt?”

“No…”

“Is he dead? Is he vomiting blood? Is he throwing things at you? Like punches?”

“No! But-”

“Then figure it out!” Steve barked through the phone. “I got the Vacation Bible Schools kids all ording banana splits for cryin’ out loud! Geez!”

“But-”

Steve hung up and the dial tone made a white hot form of irritation rush through Dustin who sneered at the receiver mouthing obscenities. 

“Son of a bitch,” Dustin said. He had almost felt bad about dripping pool water all over Steve’s floor and now he didn’t care at all.

“I guess Steve wasn’t any help,” Mike said, raising an eyebrow.

“Big negative on that one, Wheeler,” Dustin spat. He had perhaps picked up Steve’s basketball team of habit of calling the guys by their last names. It made him feel older. “Ugh.”

“I’m going back in the pool,” Lucas announced. “Call me if he grows tentacles or something.”

Mike followed him and that left Dustin and Eleven who shrugged at each other and went to the guest room where Will and Max sat on the floor.

“I think he might be seeing things,” Will said, frowning at Billy. “I mean, like I saw things? After I was in the Upside Down. And I didn’t even transform into a monster. It might be even worse for him.” Will looked up at Eleven and asked the question that a few people had already asked Eleven and which, as far as Dustin knew, she had never answered. “What happened when you saw him in the void anyway?”

Eleven took a deep breath and look at Billy with some expression that Dustin couldn’t read, but now she sat on the bed beside Billy. When he turned his head and saw her, blinking up at her through his tears, he quieted a little. 

“It’s private,” Eleven said. “He wouldn’t want me to tell you.”

“I killed them all,” Billy croaked now, speaking to Eleven. “I...killed them…”

“No,” Eleven said, “You didn’t. You saved everyone.”

“But...but I saw it,” Billy babbled. “On the beach. Max...she died.”

“Billy, I’m right here!” Max said, crawling closer towards him on the floor. “Look! I’m right here! I’m alive!”

“It’s a lie!” Billy said. “I saw it! On the beach.”

Eleven breathed in and Dustin frowned at her. “Is  _ that _ what you saw? He thought he was killing everyone?”

“Billy,” Max whispered, and for the first time since they’d thought he was dead, he saw Max looking very worried. “It’s okay now.”

“They’re dead,” Billy murmured.

Eleven looked up at Dustin and said again, “It’s private.”


	4. Chapter 4

_ July 4, 1985 _

 

Billy stumbled home even as he felt that terrible heat in his blood, that awful darkness creeping up the back of his neck and into his skull and the heavy dread that settled on his shoulders as he clutched his arm that felt as if it were about to fall off, it hurt so bad. He wasn’t thinking clearly, he knew that. Every little thought was making him sweat bullets now as the _thing_ whatever it was, the _darkness_ crept over him. It was trying to take him over. It was stealing his thoughts. It was _making him do things_ which was why he’d lost his shit just talking to Tommy back at the mall and shoved him with strength he’d never possessed before, throwing him a good distance down the parking lot and into a Volvo. Tommy was alright. Or not too hurt anyway. But what was terrifying was that Billy had not made the choice to do it, he’d only found himself taken over by the darkness that wanted to destroy. It was a pulse in his head as he limped down the street toward his house.

_Destroy...destroy…_

He been overcome with an irresistible urge to kill the kid he had just passed with his bare hands and it had hurt so badly to _not_ do that, he was having trouble seeing straight. Everything was pain. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t think…

Home. He had to get home, the distant echo that was his mind said to him. He was supposed to be there when Max got home from wherever she was because it was getting late, he had to be there, there’d be hell to pay if he wasn’t there…

_Destroy_ …

What time was it now...everything was blurred together…

How long had he been walking…

His hand was bleeding and he couldn’t think why…

He was shaking and sweaty as he stumbled in the front door, he was so so cold yet inside he felt like he was on fire…

“Where in the hall have you been?” His father was yelling.

_Destroy…_

The house was spinning around him.

_Kill him...you’ve always wanted to…_

Billy shook and intending to lean on the wall, knocked over a shelf.

“You’re drunk, Jesus Christ…”

_Destroy…_

Billy grabbed his father by the lapels.

“Kill you,” Billy mumbled. The edges of his vision were dark. His father looked wrong; distorted and twisted. Billy roared and a voice that was not his own came out of his mouth as he threw his father across the room. “Destroy.”

The squeal of tires when it came distracted Billy from throwing the dining table across the room as, in his mind, tearing the place up seemed to _slightly_ sate his desire to murder his father and potentially eat him. His skin felt too tight and too hard, his insides felt like a writhing morass.

_Destroy…_

“Hargrove.” That was the cop. The chief of police scared the shit out of Billy on a good day in a way he didn’t really want to talk about. The monster leapt within him, rage and heat flooding Billy’s senses, and he dropped to his knees, weak with the overwhelming urge to kill and eat. 

“Jesus,” the cop was saying. “Look, he’s...ill. Mr. Hargrove, there’s a virus-”

“He’s on drugs!”

“Wait, hold on a sec…”

“What the hell are you doing!”

“Just _wait_ okay-”

A sharp pain in his neck. Billy roared again and dove at Hopper, who fell back, his eyes wide. Nausea rolled through Billy as he shoved the cop up against the wall, baring his teeth. He felt as if new limbs were about to break through his skin. He felt as if he were about to die.

“Hargrove,” the cop said. “Fight it. C’mon, kid.”

Some part of Billy that was still human whispered, “Fuck you,” and he took off because he had to run, had to find a way out, a way far from the darkness…

_Let it come…_

_Let it destroy…_

He ran faster and faster, his mouth a rictus grimace as he pounded the pavement, sprinting down the street as if he would outrun the monster itself, yet he felt his body changing. He felt the monster taking over, his skin impossibly tight, and it felt as if it were cracking apart and he tripped, rolling painfully on the asphalt, scraping his hardening skin.

_Let it come…_

_You want to let it come…_

_And destroy…_

_You’ve always wanted this…_

The monster came and Billy let go, the pain receding as it took over, his mind hiding deep deep within the darkness until he couldn’t see the world anymore. 

* * *

Nothing...made sense.

Billy woke up on a beach, and that was weird because...Hawkins didn’t have a beach.

Even stranger, Billy knew this beach. It was San Diego, where he’d grown up.

He was home.

Billy smiled to himself and staggered to his feet. He was still wearing his jeans and a red Hawkins Lifeguard t-shirt and he staggered through the sand in his sneakers and paused for a moment at the heady sensation of a salty ocean mist on his lips.

The monster was gone. Or rather, it was far away in Hawkins, awful Hawkins with its cow shit and clenched fists and its pretty boys who Billy had ruined in his first fucking week.

But Billy wasn’t there. Never had to be there again, he realized. He never had to figure out how to escape or wonder why he let Neil smack him around, even after he’d turned eighteen and graduated as if nothing had changed. The monster could have all that. It hurt too much to fight the thing anyway.

And he could have the beach.

He smiled to himself and took off his sneakers, and felt the sand warm between his toes. He began to walk to the water and at the faint echo of some kid yelling far away, he looked back. He saw a kid in the distance in yellow and white but thought nothing of it and kept walking.

The heat of the sun was perfect, not too blazing hot but enough to make him feel like he was bathing in the light of it. He stepped ankle deep in the water and it was cool, up to his ankles.

The kid far away cried out again. He was a bit closer now.

But it was a beach.

There were always going to be kids making a racket.

Billy felt the sun on his skin as sure as anything, yet now as he looked up at the sky he saw that it was dark with the clouds.

He sat down in the sand, at the edge of the water. Let it rain. That was fine.

He closed his eyes. 

He felt strange, he thought. He felt stranger than he’d felt in years.

He realized he wasn’t angry.

That was it.

The epiphany struck like a gong in his head and a wave of regret rushed over him.

_I break things._

_You’re dead Sinclair._

_Nobody tells me what to do_.

“I didn’t do anything!” The kid was crying out, close enough that Billy made out his words. 

Billy opened his eyes and turned his head and saw himself running down the beach. 

Or rather it was himself about eight years ago. 

There he was, little Billy Hargrove in his softball uniform running down the beach, his cheeks streaked with tears. Billy saw a slightly younger Neil chasing him and his heart raced.

He remembered this. This was after his mother died. He had been so angry, so angry, and Andy who played shortstop had said the wrong thing. When Billy said the wrong thing he got wrapped in the mouth so Billy had wrapped Andy in the mouth again and again-

“Get back here!” Neil’s voice bellowed and the clouds crackled with pink lightning.   
Why was the lightning pink? And now it was blue? Now it was purple? 

That wasn’t right.

Billy hopped to his feet and walked down the beach, fear hot in his ears. He didn’t want to see this. This was that awful life that the monster could have.

He heard screams. This time they came from everywhere as his own voice from long ago faded while he walked away down the sand. It was Max. Max was screaming. She was screaming all around him.

He covered his ears. It wasn’t his _fault_. It wasn’t his problem. He was as good as dead. It was all _over._

He screamed now himself, crouching there on the beach with his hands over his ears, loud enough to drown out Max. When he opened his eyes, he saw the monster he had become tearing her apart.

“Noooooo!”

“Billy.”

“Max!”

This wasn’t supposed to happen. All the fears and all the regret and all the pain was supposed to be gone. This wasn’t fair. He had given everything to the monster. It wasn’t fair that he should see this.

His stomach roiled, his head pounded, and Billy fell to his knees as the Billy Hargrove monster tore through Max with its jagged insectoid legs, her blood pooling in the white sand as she screamed.

“Billy!”

“Help me!” Max cried, blood spilling from her mouth. “Billy!”

“I can’t!” Billy cried. “I...I can’t!”

The life left her eyes.

“Billy!” The other voice that had been calling for him seemed to come from everywhere too and he turned away from the monster and Max. He ran again down the sand as rain began to fall, but a girl was standing there, still on the beach.

“Billy,” she said again. It was Max’s friend, the one with the intense stare who freaked him out just a little bit.

“What are you doing here?” Billy said. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“It’s time to go home,” she said calmly. “We need you.”

“Listen,” Billy said, wiping his eyes. “ _Nobody_ needs me. That’s a fact.” He spun around and stalked the opposite way down the beach. It was a long beach, there must be an escape from the monster eating Max though he could still hear her screams, his heart tearing in two inside him, and the thunder crackling overhead.

Grief was swallowing him even as it felt so strangely muted and unreal in this place. He hadn’t known he cared so much for Max, he thought, until that moment.

“I couldn’t save her,” he said brokenly. The girl was close behind him. “I couldn’t learn… respect. Responsibility. She’s dead. I couldn’t save her. Because I’m a piece of shit. Always have been. I’m better off letting the thing take over-”

“She’s not dead!” The girl shouted at him, running around to face him. “But she might be if you don’t fight it!”

She was weirdly intimidating, this girl.

“It’s too late!” Billy shouted back at her.  “It _hurts_! I’m tired of it hurting when I try to fight it! IT ALWAYS HURTS!”

“They need you!” The girl screamed in his face. “It’s not too late! You can help them! You have to fight the monster and help them! They’ll be killed! Max and all her friends and-”

“Steve,” Billy muttered. He turned his head and there Steve was now, Billy saw him clear as day, turning Billy around to punch him in the face just because Billy had come at the Sinclair kid.

Steve was the fighter, Billy realized now. Steve was the hero. Steve was the king.

Billy was…

“I’m nothing,” he mumbled. “Always was a monster anyway.”

He saw his mother, standing in the waves, the way he remembered her; long, pale blonde hair blown by a breeze, that white dress with the little pink flowers… She looked so sad for him…

“Mom,” Billy said softly.

Billy turned away from her.

_Yes, sir_.

“You’re. Not. A. MONSTER!” The girl shoved him and he fell on his ass in the sand. She loomed over him, her face a mask of fury. “You’re like me! You were hurt! And you were angry! But you can help now! You can save them all and you won’t feel like this anymore!”

Billy looked around him on the beach. He could control this place, he realized. He just had to concentrate and he wouldn’t see terrible things like Max and the monster that now, as he looked down the beach, he saw was gone. It had seemed so real but she wasn’t dead...because she wasn’t here, his slow brain realized. She was back in the real world with Steve and the others and the monster that had taken him over. The sky thundered over them.

“You have to go NOW!” The girl shrieked.

“But…” He looked away and saw Steve Harrington now. He was in his Hawkins gym shirt and those little green shorts, catching his breath as he stood in the sand, like he was right in the middle of practice. He was beautiful just as he had been the first time Billy had noticed him. He watched himself pass by Steve and toss him an ambiguous kind of grin. It was the first time he’d made eye contact with Steve Harrington. He had been caught off guard. He had been terrified and overwhelmed and pissed to be in Hawkins in the first place and then he had been so angry about _everything_ …

He watched now as Steve smiled back at him and said hello. That had not happened in real life. In real life Steve had blinked at him as if he didn’t know what to make of Billy and then he’d ignored him. He’d ignored him every time Billy had tried to get his attention.

This place could be anything he wanted, he realized. He could make Steve Harrington love him here.

He just had to let the monster win.

“Will they die without me?” He said dully, turning to look at the girl again. 

“I don’t know,” she said, suddenly calmer.

“Will I die if I go back?”

“I don’t know.”

He turned another way and saw himself again but now he was throwing Lucas Sinclair up against the wall, and he turned another way and Neil was throwing _him_ up against a wall…

“But I could make up for it,” he said.

He was crouched over Steve. He was beating him half to death.

“I…”

Right there as the ocean waves rolled in, there he was now, crouched over Steve Harrington and on the verge of tears.

His mother was walking away.

This place was all a lie. He could make it a paradise and learn how to forget everything he’d left behind. But it would still be a lie. And there would still be Max and everyone else left back in the real world. And now that he was here where he couldn’t seem to touch his anger, he found he wanted...he wanted...

“I just…”

But he could make up for it...maybe...now with all that anger turned down so low he could hardly touch it, he realized he wanted to...he wanted to…

He turned to the girl and said, “I want to help.”

* * *

_July 11, 1985_

“I think he’s waking up again,” somebody said.

“At least he’s not crying like last time.”

“He’s got a fever though…”  
“The notes say to let him ride it out. But we should try to get him to drink something.”

“I’ll get some juice…”

Billy couldn’t stop shivering. He was so cold, yet his insides felt like fire. It was just like when he had been turning into a monster, he was still a monster, he was still a _monster_ , he would kill them all-

“Hey, whoa! It’s okay. Hey, Billy…”

“No no no,” he mumbled, clawing at his covers.

He tried to focus. His heart was pounding. 

He also had no idea where he was, but one of those kid pals of Max’s was staring at him as he shook and sweated, wrapped in several layers of blankets. Who was the kid…? Billy’s thoughts felt as fleeting and tenuous as wisps of smoke. He couldn’t get a handle on things…

There had been a hospital. He had vague memories of it. He felt like he kept waking up places and everything was a blur. He’d had fever dreams, nightmares, visions…

“Am I dead?” he mumbled.

“No!” The kid was...Byers. The kid was Byer’s little brother. The zombie boy. Why was he zombie boy…? Why did Billy care? There were bigger things to worry about like how was he so cold and hot at the same time and where was he and was he a monster-

“Am I monster?”

“ _No_.” Somebody else said that. Max’s weird friend. Jane. Jane, which...sounded fake, honestly.

“I am…” he muttered. He had been dreaming of what had happened on the beach and then all kinds of things. He had dreamed of killing Steve Harrington and of his father being so angry he had embarrassed the family by killing Steve Harrington which...if he _had_ killed Steve Harrington seemed like a strange reason to be angry about it…

Now he felt the darkness still in him and it made him shake with fear. The girl had said he could help and fight it off and he had thought then it would go away, but he still felt the monster inside him.  
“It’s got me,” he said, fighting the lump in his throat. “You’ve gotta...go… It’ll kill you…”

“Billy, you’re not a monster,” Jane was saying firmly.

The boy, the zombie kid, was sitting very close. Billy tried to focus on him. It was easier to look at him somehow. He had these huge brown eyes that were easy to look at. They pulled you right in. Steve Harrington had eyes like that.

“Listen,” Byers said. “It’s like...a toxin. You’re still getting rid of it. So you’re sick. But you’re not a monster. I promise.”

Billy swallowed and tried to concentrate very hard. “Where...am I?”

“Steve’s house!” Byers said.

Billy thought that was a shitty thing to say. He already felt so bad. “I’m dying. It’s so...it’s so dark…I’ll kill them...I don’t want to...but the monster...” He was losing the thread again. 

When he closed his eyes he saw himself beating up Steve Harrington. Had he been a monster way back then? He couldn’t remember just now. He must have been...he had always been...

Now Byers turned to Jane and said, “He needs something good to hold onto. It’s like when the Mind Flayer had me. Everybody was telling me about all these good memories and it made it easier to hold onto myself.” He looked back at Billy.

“Hey,” Jane said. “You need a good memory.”

Billy could feel the darkness and it slithered around his neck, choking him. 

“Yeah,” Byers said. “Think of something that makes you happy!”

This was stupid, Billy thought. Normally, this would have been too stupid to pay attention too. But he felt weak and impressionable and he wanted the monster to go away.

“Um…” He shook and sweated and tried to think of something that made him happy. “Basketball?”

Byers and Jane looked at each other. “Does that make you happy?” Byers said doubtfully.

“Nah…”

“Something like making a friend?” Byer said hopefully. “Or like...if you had a nice day with Max or your mom or…”

Billy only looked pained, a sheen of perspiration on his gaunt face. Jane seemed to perk up suddenly. She leaned over and whispered in Byers’ ear and Byers said, “Oh yeah… That might work. You think he remembers that?”

“Billy,” Jane said urgently. “Try to remember when you fought the other monster. Do you remember? You were a monster too and it hurt you-”

“And we thought you died!” Byers continued. “But then Steve broke you out of if! You were trapped inside the monster and he got you out of it! He’s the one who realized you weren’t dead!”

“Steve,” Billy whispered.

“Yes,” Jane said. “Do you remember?”

He had been in the dark and so scared. He thought he was dying too. And then he had pushed and realized he could break out. He had pushed and pushed and then somebody had begun to help, tearing the monster shell away and then…

“Steve,” Billy said again.

“Yes,” Jane said. “And you asked him if you helped and he said yes.”

Billy could remember now. 

_“Did I… Did I...help… Did I…?”_

_And then Steve had squeezed his hand like Billy was a friend of his. “Yeah. Yeah, Billy. You helped. You totally saved us, dude. You saved us.”_

And Steve had smiled. Steve had smiled at him like he wasn’t a piece of shit.

Steve had smiled like Billy was his hero.

“And Steve smiled,” Billy whispered. He could see it in his head, a beam of light in the darkness. Steve’s hair had been all messed up. He’d had a scrape on his chin and dirt on his face. But he had been smiling at Billy.  “At me.”

“Does that make you happy?” Jane said. “That Steve smiled at you?”

“Yeah…” Billy stared past them. He could almost see it now. “He always makes me happy.”

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

“How was he today?” Steve said, plopping down on the sofa and wincing as he took off his Adidas. He could never remember his feet hurting before he had a job. Some days he felt like an old man. He had mentioned as much to Hopper once, who had narrowed his eyes and called him an “upstart” and Steve wasn’t completely sure what an upstart was but the tone had said enough, so he didn’t mention it anymore.

Everybody except Will and Eleven just shrugged and nodded and said Billy had been mostly okay and that he had woken up again, but had not started sobbing this time.

“He woke up? But he wasn’t crying?” Steve said, his eyes still on Will and Eleven. “That’s good, right? He wasn’t freaking out?”

“He was freaking out,” Will said. “A little bit.”

“How?”

“I think he was hallucinating,” Will said. “He’s getting the toxins out, right? They’re still messing with him, I think.”

“He keeps going back to the beach,” Eleven said. “That’s...where he was in his head. He keeps thinking he’s there again. In the void.”

Steve opted not to press for details since he doubted he’d get any. He put the strange explanation aside to think about later.

“How is he now?” Steve said.

“I think he’s still awake.”

Steve nodded, biting his lip, and popped up again. He tossed his Scoops hat on the couch and made his way upstairs to the patient. When he got there, he found Billy curled up on his side and facing the door. When he saw Steve walk in, his eyes got big.

“You’re not dead,” Billy said.

“No!” Steve said. “Not today anyway.”

Will seemed pained as he followed them in, his eyes on Billy. The others hovered behind them at the door. “How are you?” Steve said softly.

“I’m...I’m sorry,” Billy muttered, staring somewhere past Steve.

“For what?”

“For...what I did to you,” Billy whispered, now looking up at Steve. “And...Sinclair…I’ve...I’ve been on the beach...”

Steve looked over at Lucas, who warily stepped forward followed by Max who held onto his shirt sleeve. They stood by the bed and looked down at Billy, wild-eyed and sweaty and looking half-mad.

“My dad,” Billy said slowly. “He’s an asshole to... _everybody_ but especially…”

“Your dad’s racist,” Lucas said flatly. He glanced at Max, smirking a little. “Yeah, so I’ve been told.”

“I let it get to me,” Billy mumbled. “I should never have…”

“Yeah,” Lucas said, nodding.

“I’m sorry, Sinclair.”

_This is weird_ , Steve thought.

“I’m sorry, Max. To you too…”

“I know,” Max said. “I get it.”

It felt like a nice moment; some totally unexpected bit of expressed regret from Billy Hargrove of all people, even if it was done in the throes of delirium. Steve thought he really meant it. Or at least he wanted to believe that. Now a look of horror crossed his face and he stiffened up in the bed, shaking, and rolling over to face the other wall.

“It’s coming,” Billy babbled. “It’s coming for me…”

“Now he’s crazy again,” Lucas said, seeming perhaps sad about it.

“He’s just…” Steve crossed his arms and watched Billy turn one way and another, his eyes squeezed shut. “He’s sweating it all out.”

“The toxin?” Will said.

“Everything,” Steve said quietly.

* * *

When the kids went home, Steve felt the familiar sense of emptiness that came over him since his parents had gone off to Florida for the summer. More than anything, it was the sense of not knowing what to do with himself when he came home. It was a weird feeling to have after so many years of wishing school was over and relishing the summers when there was nothing to do. Sometimes he hung out with Jonathan or Jonathan and Nancy, and there was even the chance now of hanging out with Tommy before he went off to college since they had reconciled in the clear-eyed dawn that had followed graduation. There were the kids but Steve could only take so much of the kids sometimes. He spent too many hours vegetating in front of the TV. Sometimes he took to drawing. He had been drawing since the first grade and never felt very confident in his skill despite encouraging words from art teachers. Now when there was nothing to do, Steve drew.

That evening, Steve checked on Billy who had fallen asleep again. He thought Billy still looked too pale and gaunt but Owens had said that would be happening for a while. He pulled back the covers and thought for one horrifying moment, that Billy had pissed the bed. But it was only sweat. Hargrove had soaked right through his clothes. He was drenched and sleeping in damp sheets, which Steve thought must be uncomfortable when you already felt so bad. He had an urge to wake Billy up to change them, but he thought he should let him sleep. He wondered if he could get the kids to do it in the morning. They were science-minded. Surely, they wouldn’t destroy his mother’s washing machine.

He went downstairs, thinking about it, and made himself dinner. He was partial to frozen dinners these days. Or anyway, he didn’t know what else to eat most nights other than bologna sandwiches or pizza. He ate Salisbury Steak from a tray in front of the TV, watching _Magnum P.I._ in the dim light of the Harrington den, and for about five minutes he thought he might be the loneliest person in the world.

When he was done eating, he ran back upstairs, changed into pajama pants, and grabbed his drawing pad and his good pencils from his room. He turned on the table light in Billy’s room that wasn’t too bright and sat by the bed and began to draw while listening to his Walk-Man. 

It felt okay.

It felt much better than watching TV alone, even if Billy was asleep. 

* * *

_THUNK._

Steve woke up with a start, panicked for a moment, as he remembered that his parents were gone. But he failed to remember for a few seconds, in the grogginess of three in the morning, that Billy Hargrove lived in his house. 

“Shit.” 

Oh, right.

He hopped out of bed, rubbing his eyes, and padded out into the hall in his pajama pants and lack of shirt. The bathroom at the end of their hall was open, the light on, and Billy was on the floor, now attempting to sit up, as he hissed and grumbled to himself.

“You alright, man?” Steve said and looked at Billy blearily.

Billy looked up at him as if he were a ghost. “The hell are you doing here, Harrington?” His speech was a little too slow as if he were drunk.

Steve snorted at that. “Well, it’s my house.”

“Shit,” Billy muttered. He sat up and leaned against the bathroom cabinets, looking rather pitiful in his t-shirt and sweatpants, all damp with sweat. “I didn’t know where I was. Just...had to take a leak.”

“Did you take it?”

“Yeah. I’m weak as shit.” He folded his legs up and sat there on the floor. “Am I dying?”

Steve tittered at that and sat on the floor next to him. “No. You’re not dying. You’re getting better.”

“Everything’s…” Billy shut eyes. “Confusing… Keep seeing shit.”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “That might happen for a while. But you’re getting better. I promise.”

“Why am I at your house?”

“Um… Well, Hop asked me to-”

“I get kicked out?”

“Yeah,” Steve said quietly.

“Pfft. Figures.” All at once Billy groaned and twisted away from Steve, clutching his stomach. “I’m gonna barf, I’m gonna barf…”

“Whoa, whoa…” Steve got to his feet and moving quickly, lifted the lid and seat of the toilet, and helped Billy crouch over it. Billy’s hair was falling around his face and Steve held it back and found himself rubbing Billy’s back as he heaved and then threw up something like bile which smelled sour and was too bright a yellow and nearly green. This too had been noted in Owen’s description of the aftermath of the infection. Billy was ridding himself of the toxin. 

“Gross,” Steve muttered.

“Ugh,” Billy said.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Steve murmured, still rubbing his back as he crouched there and trembled. “You’re okay, man.”

“I feel like _shit_ ,” Billy said, his voice cracking and shaking.

“Yeah, I know.”

Billy heaved again and Steve helped him through it until he finally stumbled to his feet, leaning into Steve, using the bathroom counter for leverage. Steve could feel how weak he was, how much he needed Steve’s help even to stand, and he wondered how long it had taken Billy to get into the bathroom and how confusing it must have been if he hadn’t even known where he was.

“C’mon,” Steve said, careful and quiet, as he helped Billy back to his room. “It’s okay. Don’t go too hard. Tell me if you need to stop. And I’m gonna get you into fresh clothes, okay? Do you think you can sit up for a minute?”

“I dunno,” Billy mumbled. 

“I’m gonna stick you in the chair,” Steve said. “Just for a sec. So I can change your sheets?”

“Mmkay,” Billy said, already sounding sleepy.

Steve worked as quickly as he could and grieved for the Steve Harrington of the morning who would be dealing with a million overheated youths at the mall in July while sleep deprived. The Harringtons had an impressively stocked linen cabinet, owing to his mother’s obsession with new designer sheets nearly every season, which meant the old ones were sent to the cabinet and the oldest eventually sent to Hawkins Presbyterian when it collected donations at Christmas. Steve unloaded Billy into the small easy chair by the window where he had earlier been sketching the slumbering Hargrove, and unmade the bed, piling all the sweaty sheets into a heap and remaking it. He changed the pillow cases too. He fluffed the pillows and set them out carefully in a manner that seemed most comfortable. 

“Have you been too warm? Or do you think you would sweat anyway?” He said to Billy, wondering if he should take the middle blanket under the bedspread away. But Billy was slumped over and dozing and didn’t answer. Steve took the middle blanket out to see how things would go. But he folded the extra and laid it at the foot of the bed when he was done so that Billy could pull it up if he wanted. Max had brought over a bunch of Billy’s things, but for the sake of ease, Steve went to his room and found a clean pair of pajama pants that would fit Billy’s thicker frame and a well worn yellow t-shirt that said “Camp Sunshine 1982” in bold green letters.

Billy, Steve knew from having changed clothes alongside Billy Hargrove in many the gym class, often didn’t wear underwear even on a good day. Steve figured they’d forgo it. If Billy was bad off enough to soil himself, underwear would be the least of his problems. 

When he came back and saw Billy attempting not to sleep, waking himself before immediately nodding off again, he thought for a moment that it was kind of cute.

“Okay, hey…” Steve stood Billy up and he grumbled sleepily, his brow turning down. His dampish hair fell in his face and Steve gently pushed it behind his ears. “Let’s change your clothes okay, buddy?”

“Mmm…” Steve went about helping Billy out of his shirt and his pants and found that he was indeed sans underwear, having probably changed from a hospital gown to begin with. “Harrington…”

“Hmm?” Steve said, helping Billy to stand while also helping him step inside the fresh pajama pants which was not the easiest thing in the world. 

“I feel so shitty.”

“I know, man. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks for...helping me.” 

Steve wanted to tease, but when he looked at Billy now, he saw the same vulnerability he had seen before when Billy was tearfully apologizing and he only smiled and nodded. “Sure.” 

Steve picked up the shirt and Billy waved it away. “No shirt.”

“Okay,” Steve said, chuckling. 

Billy managed to get himself into the bed and he sighed as he made himself comfortable. “Oh. That’s better.”

“Good. Are you gonna be...alright?”

Billy didn’t answer immediately, instead shrugging. “Keep going back to the beach.”

Steve squinted at him. Eleven had said something about that. “What’s at the beach?”

“Nothing good,” Billy mumbled.

“Well, I could…” Steve looked around and felt hesitant, although things between he and Billy could hardly get more surreal at this point. Dealing with the Upside Down had a way of shaking up relationships as if in a blender, and spitting them out again in the strangest combinations. “I can hang out in here,” he said softly. “Until you fall asleep. If you want?”

“If you want,” Billy mumbled and turned over under the covers. 

“Alright.” Steve regarded the bed. He hadn’t quite thought through his offer. They had been up for an hour and it was now going on five in the morning. If Billy fell asleep quickly, he could get in another two hours before he had to wake up again, but he was likely to fall asleep himself and then should he sleep under the covers with Billy as if they were just...two guys sleeping in a bed together, which really wasn’t _weird_ except that he knew now that Billy was gay and he had his own _thing_ about guys and Billy, in particular, he’d thought about before-

“Screw it,” Steve said, his eyes now feeling heavy. He went to turn off the light and then climbed into the bed next to Billy as if they shared it all the time. 

“Still think I’m dying,” Billy said. 

Steve turned over to face Billy’s back; a stretch of muscle and skin, the covers around his waist.

“I promise you aren’t dying,” Steve said in the darkness, watching the slight quiver of Billy’s muscles when he moved. After a bit of thought, Steve said, 

“Maybe...maybe you think you’re dying because you did something so good like...so brave and _great_ that...it’s like you can’t think you just got away with it. But...you did, man. You were a hero in the end. And you still get to live. You’re gonna be okay, Billy. I promise.”

Billy didn’t respond and Steve sighed and gave up and got comfortable on the blankets, resolved that he was going to be sleeping there.

He had nearly dozed off when Billy’s voice cracked the silence and he said, “Maybe.”

And Steve smiled to himself as he finally fell asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

“How is he?” Dustin said, dropping his backpack in the kitchen.

His mother had driven him to get donuts for everyone that morning before picking up Max and Lucas. The Duties of Billy Watch ‘85 had been divided now. Today the three of them would Billy-sit and the next day it was Mike, Eleven, and Will. Steve had said there should always be two, and the extra person was mostly down to voluntary arrangements and romantic entanglements as Lucas wanted to go if Max was going and Mike wanted to go if Eleven was going.

“He’s barfing lot,” Steve said wryly, grabbing a jelly donut from the box. He bustled around the kitchen, taking toast out of the toaster just as it dinged. “But I talked to Owens to check in. He said Billy should try to eat. Simple stuff. Toast and juice, crackers and broth. So...we’ll see, I guess. He said if he’s not keeping it down, he still needs to try.”

“Oh...fantastic,” Dustin said, rubbing his temples. He had eaten two chocolate donuts with chocolate glaze and sprinkles already and now he grabbed a third.

“Thanks for the donuts,” Steve said with his mouth full. “You can bring Billy this toast okay?”

“What’s his mood like?” Max said darkly, leaning on the counter. 

“Grumpy,” Steve said, smirking as he drank a gulp of coffee. 

“More like his old self.”

“Oh shit,” Lucas muttered.

“No...” Steve said, frowning. “I mean he’s not being an _asshole_. He’s just like kinda grouchy. Bit of a dick. I changed his sheets and now they’re these Laura Ashley sheets because my mom loves Laura Ashley? And Billy called em’ ‘scratchy hotel bullshit pussy sheets’.” Steve laughed to himself, shaking his head. 

“Shit, I hate Laura Ashley.”

Dustin exchanged a look with both Lucas and Max. Steve was unaccountably cheerful and in the direction of Billy. He had been friendly toward Billy so far yes, but this felt...different.

“Uh also,” Steve said. “I gave him my walkie. In case he needs help or something, and you’re not in the room. Thought it would be handy.”

“Oh man,” Max muttered. “He is going to abuse that privilege.”

“He’s really sick,” Steve said in his most adult sounding voice. “He can’t walk two steps without passing out. And also...yeah, he definitely will. But it’ll still be useful. It’s either that or he screams for help and he doesn’t need to lose his voice on top of everything else.”

“Fine,” Dustin said, sighing heavily.

“Also, _don’t_ give him cigarettes,” Steve said, wagging his finger at them as if Lucas was about to pull a pack of Marlboro Reds from his back pocket.

“Steve,” Dustin said slowly, “we don’t have cigarettes.”

Steve flinched and said, “Right, yeah I know. I just thought I’d mention it. He keeps asking for em’. Think the lack of smokes is making him grouchy more than anything.” Steve scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe when he’s a little better…”

Ah, Dustin noted. Steve definitely had his own cigarettes, probably stashed somewhere in his room. Dustin wrinkled his nose at the thought. Smoking had always seemed pointless, expensive, and disgusting to Dustin. And besides that, it killed you. But then Steve wasn’t always very bright.

Steve set his goofy sailor hat on his hand and nodded at them, raising his donut in the air. “Alright. See ya guys later. I left some cash for ya too if you guys want to order pizza today.” At that, the kids grinned at each other. Well, _that_ changed everything.

“I was kinda dreading this,” Lucas admitted. “But swimming and pizza? I’m not complaining.”

He was hardly done talking before Dustin’s walkie hissed from his backpack, and they all exchanged dark expressions.

Dustin sighed and dug into his backpack and Max went to the fridge for a juice to take to Billy and thinking better of the OJ, grabbed a Hi-C. Dustin took his walkie out and braced himself.

“Anybody there for Christ’s sake?” Billy’s voice said through the walkie.

“Yeah,” Dustin answered. “We just got here.”

“Is Steve still there?”

“He just left.”

“Shit.”

“What do you need?”

There was a huffy little noise and then Billy said. “Forget it. My sister here?”

Max raised her eyebrows, holding the juice and plate. “Yeah. She’s gonna bring you toast.”

“I guess,” Billy said and then nothing.

“He sounds like a lot of fun,” Lucas said.

Max rolled her eyes and took the food up to Billy and she was gone long enough that there was time for Lucas and Dustin to hang out in the kitchen, nibbling on donuts and discussing what kind of pizza they would order for lunch. There was also the recent discovery of the Harrington VHS Collection kept in a large cabinet in the TV room. They just couldn’t decide what to watch. To Dustin’s horror, Lucas wanted to watch all the _Rocky_ movies, all of which were lined up neatly in their little cardboard VHS cases which was ridiculous, Dustin thought, because _Time Bandits_ was _right there_.

“Wow, he really wants cigarettes,” Max said, seemingly amused on her return. “And he’s bored.”

“He’ll live,” Dustin said.

They all went to the TV room then, taking the walkie talkie and the donuts with them and ended up playing Sorry because they found it in the cabinet next to the videos. And they ended up only scattering some tapes around without deciding anything as Lucas was still adamant about _Rocky,_ which felt something like a betrayal to Dustin.

There was a loud thump from the direction of the staircase and they all perked up like alarmed German Shepherds when they heard it.

Max said, “Uh oh.”

“Is he coming down _here_?” Dustin said. 

Such a scenario had never even been discussed as Billy was still considered to be so weak.

Max got up, walking a little funny as she’d just been sitting on her legs. “Steve said he couldn’t go two steps without passing out!”

“If he fainted on the stairs, we are so screwed,” Dustin said, following her, with Lucas begrudgingly coming along.

Billy had not fainted. He had made it halfway down the carpeted stairs before giving up and now he sat on a step in pajama pants and Steve’s yellow Camp Sunshine 1982 t-shirt. He was also wearing Mr. Harrington’s navy blue bathrobe (a gift from Mrs. Harrington for Christmas of 1979). He looked pale and a little gray, dark circles under his eyes. 

“You look like shit,” Lucas cracked.

“I feel worse,” Billy said thickly, and it took them all a moment to process a comment from Billy Hargrove that was both lucid and nonthreatening. He sank his head in his hands and dutifully ignored them.

“Steve says you’re supposed to stay in bed,” Max said.

“Yeah well, I don’t see Steve,” Billy said and seemed to reach into his pocket for something that wasn’t there. Cigarettes, Dustin assumed. “Goddammit. I’m so bored. I can’t sleep anymore. I’m gonna fuckin’...” He rubbed his face. “Shit. Can’t smoke, can’t work out, can’t drive...”

Dustin and Lucas looked at each other and Lucas seemed to bear himself up before saying with a sense of grandeur, “Do you want to watch a movie down here? Or we could hook up the VCR to Steve’s TV in your room-”

“I’m so sick of that room,” Billy muttered and nodded at Lucas. “What kinda movies has he got?”

* * *

 

“I cannot believe we’re watching _Rocky_ ,” Dustin said for the third time. He was sitting on the floor, leaning up against the couch where Billy was laid out under his blankets and atop several pillows, still munching on toast. Somehow Lucas had the big, comfy chair next to the couch while Max sat next to Dustin.

“Shut your hole, Henderson,” Billy said. “This is the good part.”

“Every part is the good part,” Lucas said, grinning.  


“No shit, Sinclair.”

Max merely said, “Ugh.”

Dustin whispered to Max, “After this, we watch _Superman_.”

“I heard that, Henderson,” Billy said. “After this, we watch _Rocky II_.”

“Alright!” Lucas said.

“Ugh.”

Max and Dustin were outvoted by the patient and their own friend. The very idea that Billy and Lucas had teamed up on the subject of _anything_ had so befuddled Dustin that for a moment he wondered if Lucas was a victim of the Mind Flayer. But Lucas had always had an affinity for Stallone movies and Dustin had been subject to more than one dissertation on why John Rambo was actually a superhero.

Max and Dustin gave up and went swimming, leaving Lucas to both _Rocky II_ and _Rocky III_ and intense discussion with Billy Hargrove on the subject of Rocky as a fighter in comparison to Apollo Creed.

Around one, just as Dustin was thinking they should order pizza soon, his walkie buzzed from where it sat on the deck chair. Dustin thought the use of the walkie was excessive given that Lucas was already on the first floor and could walk outside and talk to him in two seconds and grumbled as he climbed out of the pool and wrapped a towel around his waist and went dripping into the house, followed by Max.

In the TV room, they found Billy barfing into the trash bin they’d brought downstairs for just such an occasion as Lucas stood near the door with a grimace on his face.

“He’s barfing,” Lucas said.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Dustin said.

It didn’t look like regular barfing either. It looks like painful barfing; Billy’s eyes were teary, his face twisted up as he leaned back now, wiping his mouth on his wrist. Max jogged to the kitchen and came back with a dish towel and a glass of water that she handed him.

“So much for toast,” Billy said thickly, his nose running. He blew his nose into the dish towel and wiped his mouth again and drank some water, making a face. “Shit. I fuckin’...hate this shit.”

Billy tied the top of the trash bag in a knot and sat back on the couch wiping some chunks out of his hair with the towel. He looked tired and pale. Objectively speaking, Dustin could admit that Billy Hargrove had always been considered a good-looking guy (although Dustin was too loyal to ever say he was better looking than Steve) but now he looked so shitty and it didn’t seem fair that somebody could do something that was heroic and somehow get sick anyway and look so crappy afterward.

“I’ll...take this out,” Dustin said, feeling very magnanimous. He held his nose and grabbed the bag, holding it as far away from him as possible as he went all the way outside to the big Harrington trash bins that stood by their garage. He stuck the bag inside and slammed the lid down on top and still felt gross until he’d washed his hands with scalding water in the kitchen with a bunch of dish soap for almost a full minute.

Idly, Dustin wondered if Billy would be happier if Steve was home. Billy always seemed to cheer up when Steve got home. 

He was suspicious that something had happened the day that Will, Eleven, and Mike had spent the day with Billy. Mike had spent most of the time out of the room but Will and El had spent a lot of time with Billy and wouldn’t talk about it. When it came to Billy Hargrove, Eleven seemed to act as if there was some shroud of important secrecy over the two of them which, considering how many secrets The Party shared, did not seem fair. But Dustin wasn’t about to argue with Eleven in general. And besides that, Dustin knew just enough about Billy to realize there were some things he just didn’t want known.

“Billy,” Max was saying, when Dustin came back in the room, “I think you’d do better back in bed.” She had her hands on her hips and even in her rainbow swimsuit, with her dripping hair, and her Star Wars beach towel around her waist, she looked strikingly like a mom as she loomed over him. Billy was curled up on the couch again, wrapped in three blankets and looking sweaty and sick and generally a shadow of his former self. 

“I don’t wanna go upstairs,” Billy said. 

Max exchanged a long-suffering look with Dustin and Lucas. They were all starting to get used to feeling like this around Billy who seemed to be getting more difficult the better he felt. Or at least, the more lucid he was.

“Fine right here,” Billy mumbled. “You guys do whatever.”

He looked miserable and Dustin saw Max’s worried expression. “Do you need anything?”

“My head hurts. Like it’s in a goddamn vise.”

“Tylenol!” Lucas said, snapping his fingers. “I’ll get it.”

“Are you still hallucinating?” Max said quietly.

“Mmm...Yeah, all the time,” Billy said so casually. “‘Least I know what it is, I guess. Keep seeing you hurt.” His eyes seemed teary. Maybe that was from barfing. Dustin couldn’t tell but Billy looked so miserable now as he spoke.

“Keep seeing you getting hurt,” he mumbled again.

“Well, that must cheer you up,” Max said lightly. She smiled sardonically at him and he glowered in response.

“It _sucks_ ,” Billy snapped. “And I don’t wanna fall asleep. When I do, I dream I’m stuck on the beach and I can’t get back. And everybody gets killed by that thing and I can’t do shit about it.”

“It’s just a dream,” Max said softly, sitting on the arm of the couch. 

“Seems real.”

Dustin licked his lips and said, “Sometimes I dream that I’m naked at the science fair and Mr. Clark disqualifies me. Because I’m naked. It’s terrible.”

Dustin watched a look of utter disbelief cross Billy’s face before he finally said, “You are so weird, kid.”

“Agreed,” Max said wryly.

“I was just saying,” Dustin crabbed. “It’s _similar_.”

Lucas returned with Tylenol and Dustin flinched because Billy took what really seemed like too large a dose. Then again, with monster toxin still in his blood, maybe something like Tylenol could only help. He hoped so anyway.

For too long a minute, they all stared at Billy in the TV room, _Rocky III_ paused behind them on the television, before Billy finally said, “Ya don’t have to all babysit me! Just order your pizza or something. I’m fine.”

“I don’t want to eat in the barf room,” Lucas groused.

“So we’ll eat in the kitchen,” Max said, rolling her eyes. But she threw an arm around his neck as they went to the kitchen to call the pizza place.

* * *

 

“Oh my God, are they still watching _Rocky_ ,” Dustin said later as he ate a third slice. They’d eaten at the kitchen table while pouring over the new _Dungeons & Dragons_ books Dustin had brought with him. At some point, Lucas had disappeared again and then they heard what sounded like sort of a boxing match coming from the TV room.

“No, I think that’s them,” Max said frowning.

“ _What_?” Dusting shrieked and knocked over his chair as he jumped up. “Shit!”

He ran back to the TV room, nearly knocking over an expensive looking side table in the hall and the useless but equally expensive looking white vase on top of it, skidding into the TV room where…he saw Billy swinging his fist, albeit very slowly, at Lucas Sinclair.

“Son of a bitch!” Dustin shouted and clobbered Billy who went down to the couch like a ton of bricks and was apparently too weak to fight off _Dustin Henderson_ as he attempted to cover his head with his hands. Dustin wailed on Billy with both fists and struck a nose and an eye, briefly registering that it hurt like hell to punch somebody as his fists flew, a rage coursing him through him not just at the thought that Billy was trying to hurt Lucas again but that he had _fooled_ them all and taken advantage of them and made them _help him while he barfed-_

Billy said, “What the _hell_ -”

“Dustin!” Lucas shouted, and it took Lucas yanking Dustin back by his shirt and pulling him across the room, gripping him by the shoulders and shoving him up against the wall next to the shelf of probably unread books and knickknacks next to the TV. Dustin shook with the fury of loyalty and love and glared over Lucas’s shoulder at the offender who had probably not even meant to save anyone’s life! Of course, Billy Hargrove was still evil, what had they all been thinking anyway! He’d probably faked those tears when he’d apologized to everyone and-

“He wasn’t beating me up, dumbass!”

“BUT HE WAS-”

“He was teaching me how to fight!” Lucas said. “Didn’t you see how slow that punch was? Shit! I was standing right there! He wasn’t going to actually hit me!”

Max stood in the middle of the room and went from looking potentially horrified to instantly relaxed and went to the couch to tend to Billy whose nose Dustin had apparently set to bleeding.

“Oh,” Dustin said simply. “Well… My mistake then.”

“He’s _bleeding_ ,” Max said, glaring at Dustin as she held a tissue to Billy’s nose.

“Well…” Dustin flailed as Lucas stepped away. “What-what’s he doing teaching you how to fight anyway? If he’s so weak? Huh?” His defense died down as he looked at Billy who didn’t even look pissed which was...incredibly out of character given the circumstances. Dustin had socked him pretty hard in the eye as well as the nose. He was going to have a black eye probably, Dustin thought, and now he looked down at his own hand that shook, his knuckles red. His hand hurt like hell, he finally registered. And his heart was racing. He felt weirdly powerful but also terrible.

He stared at Billy who blinked at him as he took the tissue from Max and flinched as he pinched his nose.

_He’s going to murder me when he gets better_ , Dustin thought.

_R.I.P. Dustin Henderson_

_Beloved son, friend, and A.V. Club Member_

Billy burst out laughing.

Everyone stared at him as if he’d grown tentacles.

“Henderson...Henderson beat the shit out of me!” Billy said, throwing his head back, his face stretched as he laughed somewhat maniacally. Dustin squinted at him. It sounded a little villainous, like how the Joker might laugh, except that he was holding his stomach and his eyes watered and they all just stared at him until his laughter became a helpless giggle.

“You’re...you’re not mad?” Dustin said, swallowing, petrified. 

Billy shrugged and said, “It’s nothing compared to this bullshit,” before slumping over and barfing into the trash bin again. Fortunately, they’d refilled the trash bag.

Dustin took a deep breath and said, “I’ll...I’ll take care of him til Steve gets here.”

“ _Obviously_ ,” Max said, and yanked on Lucas’s hand, pulling him out of the room.  “Get him some ice but first hold his hair back when he barfs, okay?”  


“Oh, _man_.”

* * *

 

“What the hell happened to him!” Steve gaped at Billy as if a demodog had just eaten his cat.

Billy said, “Harrington-”

“When I left, he didn’t have a black eye!” Steve said, pointing at Billy. “He had two good eyes! How did he get a black eye!”

“Harrington!” Billy lay awkwardly on the couch now, on top of his blankets, wrapped in his robe, and holding a bag of frozen fish sticks to his eye because all the ice had melted and the trays had only just been refilled. He stared groggily at Steve and rubbed his good eye. “It’s fine. Jesus. Don’t get your panties in a twist-”

“I did it,” Dustin said, hanging his head. “I thought he was beating up Lucas again.”

“Dustin!” Steve said, and it struck Dustin’s ears exactly like his mom’s voice and twice as sharp.

“I’m sorry!” Dustin said, throwing his hands up. “It looked like he was taking a swing! I flipped, okay!”

“And why exactly would he think that you were taking a swing at Lucas?” Steve said now, turning his gaze to Billy and crossing his arms.

“I was teaching Sinclair how to throw a punch,” Billy said, shrugging.

Steve turned to Lucas. “Is this true?”

“Yes,” Lucas said quickly. “You have to keep the thumb on the _outside_ -”

“Why in the hell are you teaching Lucas to fight?” Steve said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Especially when you can barely stand?”

“We were watching _Rocky_ ,” Billy said poutily. “We got caught up.”

“Oh my God...I can’t...I can’t…” Steve was waving his hands around, his eyes wide. “I cannot believe you people! You people make me crazy! We’re trying to help him get _better_ , Dustin!”

“I _know_!” Dustin said plaintively. “I said I was sorry! I helped him barf! I held his hair back and everything! It was awful!”

“Billy…” Steve’s voice was suddenly soft. He crossed the room and sat on the arm of the sofa and gently turned Billy’s head, frowning as he inspected the bruised eye and swollen nose. “And your nose?”

“It bled a little. No big deal. Honestly, it’s the first time I haven’t been bored since I woke up,” Billy said.

Steve seemed to relax a little and smiled at that and Dustin saw the way he touched Billy like he was something delicate and had never been a monster at all. “Did you put ice on it?”

“Mm...yeah.” Billy swallowed as he looked up at Steve.

You wouldn’t have thought there was anybody else in the room the way they were looking at each other and Dustin couldn’t help registering that something was _happening_ that he had...not exactly anticipated?

“Um…” Lucas spoke and at the sound of his voice, Steve moved his hand, looking slightly flustered. “Okay if we go?”

“Yeah, please,” Steve said. “Before ya kill him?”

 


	7. Chapter 7

“I can’t believe them!” Steve ranted. “I can’t believe you either! What’re you doing teaching Lucas to box in your state!”

“In my _state_ ,” Billy said with a snort. He was swathed in his blankets, lying on the couch as Steve ate the last of the pizza in the big chair. _Family Ties_ was on. “I can’t believe you’re still talking about this, Harrington. And I wasn’t even teaching him to box, alright? I was teaching him to throw _one_ punch in case somebody like  _me_ comes along again-”

“They wouldn’t be like you,” Steve said. “You’re not like that anymore.”

Billy got quiet then. He wasn’t sure how to take that. He should be pissed, right? Some old part of him that smelled sour and that he had been barfing into the toilet for the last week wanted to be angry. Why shouldn’t he be like he was? What was so wrong with that? Fuck you, Harrington, he would have said before. I’m not a goddamn pussy now-

“What am I then?” He muttered instead. Because that old stuff was swirling around the sewers of Hawkins now. 

Steve looked put on the spot and he opened and closed his mouth a couple times, looking flustered and cute. “I don’t know,” Steve admitted. “But I know I like you better now.”

“Well, I guess that’ll have to do,” Billy said smoothly. He didn’t mean it to come out like he was trying to get Steve into bed. But his voice was low and husky and he saw Steve blink at him with those big eyes.

“Huh.” Steve sat back in his chair and left the last of his pizza crust on a paper towel on the coffee table. “You’re so full of shit.”

Billy wondered what he meant by that exactly. Steve _knew..._ as in knew he was gay. Of that, he was sure, because Max couldn’t keep her big mouth shut and she’d told him all sorts of things when they’d been looking for Monster Billy Hargrove.

“Says who?” Billy said.

Steve sat on his hands, his eyes on the TV. “Nothing, I’m just… I don’t know.” He looked frozen up as if, should Billy push any further, he might flip out. Which was...promising maybe.

And then he wondered who the hell he was kidding. He was still _Hargrove_ even if Steve said nice things and mother henned all over him. Plus, he looked shittier than he’d ever looked in his life. Pale as a bone, his hair greasy and lank. He needed a shower and hair spray and real clothes...He needed a _smoke_.

“Hey, Harrington,” Billy said softly.

Steve looked over at him and seemed to brace himself.

Billy said, “I want a cigarette.” He tried to look mean when he said it but Steve didn’t seem intimidated.

Instead, Steve seemed simultaneously relieved and disappointed. “Oh. Jesus, Billy-”

“Oh, come _on_ ,” Billy said, thumping his head on the couch behind him. “I was infected by a goddamn monster form an alternate dimension. What’re smokes gonna do to me? I know you’re holding out on me, pretty boy.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at him and said, “Goddammit. Fine. Hold on.”

He came back with half a pack of Marlboro Reds and Billy sat up, making room, so that Steve plopped down next to him. He was still wearing his stupid Scoops uniform. The first time Billy had seen Steve in it, he had not been able to decide if he should bust a gut laughing or go jerk off. He had ended up doing both.

Now he had a hard time not staring at Steve’s thighs when he sat down next to Billy; the shorts weren’t very short, but they rode up high when he sat. If Billy moved his hand slightly, he could grip Steve’s left thigh in his palm and then slide it up, up, up…

“Hargrove?” Steve said.

Billy looked up and took the cigarette Steve was offering. There was no way Steve had missed him staring. Unless he’d mistaken it for spacing out. A Zippo appeared and Steve flipped it open and lit Billy’s cigarette for him.

“You have a Zippo,” Billy said flatly, and then his eyes fluttered shut as he took a blessed drag. He had not had a cigarette since becoming the monster. Nobody in the hospital would give him one.

Steve stared at him for an awkward amount of time as he smoked before saying, “Yeah...uh. Yeah, it’s my dad’s actually.” He took a cigarette out and lit one for himself and sat back, relaxing next to Billy who had thrown his blankets on the floor and was now lounging in Mr. Harrington’s nice robe, smoking a cigarette lit by his lighter, and thinking dirty thoughts about his son.

“People at work give him stuff like this all the time,” Steve said, shrugging. “Like clients? He doesn’t even notice when I take it. I take all kindsa’ shit.” He flipped the lighter over and showed Billy where it was engraved with a flashy, cursive R.H. 

“What’s the R?” Billy said.

“Richard,” Steve said, exhaling a spiral of smoke. “But I just call him Dick.” He smirked at Billy who smiled widely and they sat, chatting and laughing and smoking until Billy calmly handed Steve the spent butt of his smoke, and then hunched over and barfed into the trash bin. 

Steve murmured that Billy was okay and all the little things that Steve murmured when he helped Billy barf, holding his hair back again, and rubbing his back. He gave Billy water and Billy rinsed out his mouth, spitting into the bin. He wiped his nose with the dish towel Steve handed him and croaked, “I gotta shower.”

“Oh…” Steve suddenly seemed to find the ceiling very interesting. “Okay.”

“I can’t…” Billy heaved a sigh. “Look, just get me in the shower and I’ll be fine.”

“I should...spot you,” Steve said, turning somewhat pink. 

“I think you just miss checking my ass out in the shower,” Billy said, grinning. He tossed Steve a wink.

There was something freeing about that. He knew Steve knew about him and Steve didn’t seem to _care_ per se. Or at least he hadn’t said anything about it. There was something sort of amazing about not having to hide it from everyone.

Steve’s voice went up about three octaves as he sputtered, “Wh-what what? I haven’t! I never! I never checked you out in the shower!”

Billy had only been joking but the mortified protest was all too familiar and a stupid little wellspring of real hope began to babble within him. 

“You’re so cute when you lie,” Billy cracked, and watched Steve look indignant until he shook his head and raked a hand through his hair, muttering something under his breath that Billy couldn’t hear. 

“Come on, Casanova,” Steve said. “Let’s just get you showered, okay?”

***

“Shit, I can’t wait till I can work out again,” Billy muttered. 

He was naked and soaking wet and thinking about free weights because if he thought about how Steve was standing just outside the shower with the curtain open and just leaning there, chatting with him as he washed his hair, a breath away from getting into the shower too, he would get hard as a rock. 

So he was thinking about free weights and all the things he could do with them.

“Uh huh,” Steve said. Steve seemed flustered enough too and that alone pleased Billy. He was staring straight ahead as if Billy might be offended or something if he _looked_.

As if.

But he didn’t miss Steve’s gaze sliding over to him now, moving up and down his body, and hopefully not noticing the way Billy’s cock twitched in interest. “You still look real good,” Steve said, his voice unusually low. “I mean fine. You look fine.”

“Jesus, Harrington,” Billy said, wondering how just flustered Steve could get. He was so adorable like that and he kept nervously playing with his lips. “I saved your _life_ and now here I am, at my lowest of the goddamn low, feelin’ pretty shitty about myself, and all you can muster up is _fine_?”

“Okay, you look…” Steve swallowed, blessedly taking Billy’s bait hook, line, and sinker. “Better than fine.”

Billy leaned against the shower wall and took the sprayer out of its holder on the wall to rinse his hair, his naked body now facing Steve whose mouth dropped open as suds slid down Billy's chest in little rivulets.

“I don’t know what you wanna hear, man, like...” Steve babbled helplessly and said. “I mean you have like the best body in Hawkins. Like _clearly_ -”

“Ah!” Billy couldn’t help the little noise of surprise that went chirping out of him.

“I mean-”

“Best body of a guy?” Billy said quickly. “Or of anyone?”

“Jesus, forget it,” Steve snapped. He was practically vibrating with nervous energy and looking like he’d really like to crawl into a hole and die except he couldn’t. He couldn’t walk away because he wasn’t going to leave Billy alone in the shower when he was still so weak and risk Billy hurting himself.

Billy didn’t believe in love at first sight. It had never made any sense to him. He had never thought much about premonitions and things like that except that his mother had been both Catholic and a believer in astrology and the tarot which had created all kinds of mixed up ideas about “important feelings” and things related to fate. 

The first time Billy had seen Steve Harrington, _something_ had shaken him up from his head to his toes. It had not just been attraction, though that had definitely been there too. It had been a weirdly loud and almost smug voice in his head that had said: _You’re going to fall in love with him._

He had not expected it to happen quite like this.

But now he knew he had been right all along.

People should listen to him more, he thought now as he watched Steve bite his lip and rub his neck, avoiding Billy’s gaze. Because he had been so right about something so important.

“Of a guy?” He said again, turning off the shower now that he was nice and rinsed. “Or of _anyone_?”

Steve was staring at the tile floor, but he reached for a big fluffy blue towel folded neatly on a wicker shelf, and handed it to Billy and finally said, “Of anyone. And don’t act so surprised. It’s not like you don’t obsessively lift so somebody’ll say so.”

Billy wondered if he had not had his crazy head stuck up his crazy ass when he’d first come to Hawkins and acted like a lunatic, would Steve have told him a long time ago that he had the best body in town?

“Thanks, pretty boy,” Billy said, grinning.

“Okay whatever, Goldilocks.”

“Goldilocks?” Billy said, his eyes lighting up. He liked the sound of that coming from Steve. 

“Just get dressed,” Steve said, as if this was the chore of his life. But he was smiling too as he helped Billy dry off. “Um...so ya know if… Like if you need help in the night or whatever? I was thinking if you want to, you can just sleep in my room? I mean if you want to. It’s no big deal. But if you…” He scratched his head, eyes wandering. He looked utterly lost. “Want to. That’s fine.”

Billy stared at him. There was a kind of sublime torture in the idea. He was too weak. He was likely to barf at any moment. Nothing would happen. He wouldn’t let it, even if there was a chance. Because if he was going to ever bone Steve goddamn Harrington, he fully planned on making it the best time Steve Harrington had ever had in bed. The risk of passing out or ralphing was just too great right now.

On the other hand, he was not about to pass up sharing Steve’s bed. The thought was already making him hard.

“Sure,” he muttered. “Whatever.”

Billy was not precisely the over-analytical type and yet he was not stupid. But he had to wonder now: What the hell did this mean exactly?

Steve had slept in his bed before, true. But he had been in much worse shape and besides, he could always yell for Steve if he needed him though he wasn’t likely to yell for a plead for comfort unless he completely lost his shit. He hoped that didn’t happen again.

Still, on the heels of the “best body” comment…things were looking definitively skyward.

* * *

 

Billy once again didn't bother with a shirt and noticed that Steve did the same. They were both wearing only some old gym shorts of Steve’s. Whatever pair Steve was wearing was old. They must have been from before Steve had filled out because he was practically bursting out of them. If Billy hadn’t already known from the gym showers exactly what Steve was packing, he knew now because he could see the outline of Steve’s huge dick and when he turned around, that luscious round ass was peeking out the bottom. Billy hissed and crawled under the covers. The shorts he was wearing were too small for his meaty thighs too and now they stretched around his erection under the covers as Steve stood right in front of him, seemingly clueless of the turmoil in Billy’s shorts, as he lazily scratched his balls. 

“Will you get into bed already?” Billy said.

“Alright geez.”

Billy lay on the side facing the window because, though he never quite realized it, he liked sleeping near windows. God knew if Steve preferred that side but he seemed happy enough to take the side nearest the door and Billy felt like a coiled spring as Steve crawled under the covers behind him.

_That huge dick and the beautiful boy attached to it was right there._

Like he was going to sleep?

Steve was faced away from him, he was pretty sure, and when they both shifted under the covers and their asses pressed up each other, Billy swallowed and shut his eyes.

Immediately, he felt as if his body was floating away. 

It was an intensely real sensation and he gasped a little and opened his eyes again. He had felt this a couple of times in the past few days. He had tried to shut his eyes against hallucination and then felt that floating feeling. It wasn’t a good kind of floating feeling, it was terrifying. It made him feel as if he couldn’t stay stuck to the earth. The longer he kept his eyes closed, the faster the floating became until he was rushing up into space it felt like, where he’d just be alone in the darkness, in the void…

It wasn’t real, he knew that in his head. But it _felt_ real and made him too scared and nauseated to keep his eyes closed when he felt it. 

If it was going to be like that all night, he knew he would not sleep, even if he managed to ignore Steve right next to him, which wasn’t likely. So he opened his eyes and stared out Steve’s window. The blinds were open and he could see part of the Cheshire Cat moon. Steve shifted again and Billy chewed his lip, hoping Steve would not fall asleep. But he’d give it a few minutes. He didn’t want Steve to think he needed company. He was already relying on him for so much shit, it was mortifying.

Somewhere in the room there was a clock other than the digital alarm that sat on the nightstand, Billy could hear it ticking. He could hear crickets outside and the silence of Hawkins that seemed more deathly quiet than any other silence he’d ever heard. Except for the void, of course.

“Are you asleep?” Steve finally said. His voice sounded different. He was speaking very softly as if just because it was dark, they should be quiet, even though they were the only people in the whole house. 

“Nope,” Billy said.

He heard Steve shift around again and it sounded like he was rolling back over, facing Billy’s back. He wasn’t touching Billy now. Billy wondered how close he was and where he was looking. He felt as if there were eyes at him. Was Steve staring at his back? He flexed his muscles a little bit. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Steve said.

Billy thought there was probably no more loaded question than asking if one could ask a question.

“You just did,” he mumbled.

“Ha ha.”

He was going to ask him about being a monster, Billy was sure. Or he was going to ask about the beach, and Billy wanted to go maybe five seconds without having to think about all that because it hurt to think about it and also it made him hallucinate sometimes and if he couldn’t keep his eyes open and he couldn’t keep his eyes closed he was going to lose it again and..

“I don’t want to talk about monster shit,” he said, and hated how his voice quaked.

“No no,” Steve said, still speaking in that soft nighttime voice. “It’s nothing about that.”

“What then?” Billy said warily. 

“Um…” He heard Steve breathing, shifting around. His hesitation was palpable.

“Spit it out, Harrington.”

“I was just… I guess I was wondering when you...knew? That you were...ya know….”

“A homo?” Billy supplied.

“I mean yeah.”

Billy blinked and couldn’t decide how he felt about the question. His first instinct was to tell Steve to shut the hell up except that the question implied certain things about Steve potentially...Steve who had told him he had the best body in Hawkins…  


“Nevermind,” Steve whispered. “Sorry.”

“Fourth grade,” Billy said, cutting him off. “Kids were playing boyfriend girlfriend, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. I mean so did I. Because that’s what you did. We were nine anyway...it didn’t mean shit. Just pretending. But there was a kid, Perry. He was like the cute boy all the girls had crushes on. Had the David Cassidy hair and he could do pull-ups on the bars and he was the best kickball player… I just remember knowing I liked _that._ Not the girls. Figured out pretty quick I had to pretend I liked the girls though.”

He rolled on his back and found that Steve was sitting up, leaning on his hand as he listened, the covers down around his waist. Billy glanced at him and the moonlight made Steve look too pretty so he stared at the ceiling instead.

Steve said, “But you...have you been with...guys? Before?”

“Sure,” Billy said, smiling a little. 

“Anyone here?”

Billy could only snort at that. “Not likely.”

“Hmm.” Steve looked like he was thinking about this as he gazed down at Billy. It was impossible not to imagine him suddenly ducking his head to kiss Billy, climbing on top of him. But not _now_. He wasn’t sure he wouldn’t start barfing again any second. Steve had put the trash bin on his side of the bed for just such a scenario. He also didn’t want to suddenly start hallucinating monsters while he was blowing Steve Harrington, thanks.

_Torture_ , he thought dimly. 

Steve seemed to be working his way around to something and Billy took a shot in the dark and said, “You can like both, ya know. Girls and guys-”

“I know, I know,” Steve said quickly. Too quickly. Like it had definitely been on his mind. Billy was half hard just thinking of the implications. He licked his lips and said, “Yeah? How do you know?”  


“Huh?”

“I mean how do you know?” Billy said, and under the covers, he rested his hands on his stomach. Steve was leaning on one hand and the other was fidgeting with a loose thread that unraveled from his comforter, his eyes followed Billy’s movements as he shifted around in bed. “Like, did you hear it on TV or read it or...maybe somebody you know likes both? David Bowie? Like I mean _how_ do you know?”

It was a ridiculous question but it was also not the question he was really asking.

Steve could be a little dense sure, but he could see that he wasn’t missing what Billy was asking as he stared down at the thread unraveling from the comforter that he now wrapped tightly around one finger. Billy shifted around again and his covers slipped. He made himself comfortable, pushing them down around his waist like Steve had them. He rested his hands on his stomach again, idly tapping, and Steve’s gaze moved to him; to his eyes and down to his tapping fingers. Steve’s mouth was parted and his breath seemed a little short, Billy was pretty sure. The hand he leaned on pushed back his hair and he blinked rapidly. But he took so long to answer, Billy thought he’d already perhaps gone too far and he sighed, his heaving chest moving slowly up and down under his hands.

Crickets. Tick tick tick. He heard the soft smacking of Steve’s lips.

“Leif Garrett,” Steve said, his voice cracking slightly. “Seventh grade.”

Billy grinned from ear to ear and was tempted to ask Steve if he’d heard somewhere that Leif Garrett liked both just to fuck with him but that kind of nonsense would only waste valuable time.

“Harrington…” Billy said. “Did you have the hots for Leif Garrett?”

Steve was smiling, looking bashful, and also willing to talk. Billy’s mind was blown. He’d sucked and fucked a _little_ with guys but he’d never had this kind of conversation with anyone in his life. It was a lot more intimate than the sucking and fucking, or at least the kind he’d been privy to.

Steve said, “Um...well, so like I really liked Leif Garrett? Had his posters up everywhere, but I never thought about...I mean I do _like_ girls so...it didn’t really occur to me, ya know-”

“Yeah.”  


“So I was rubbing one out in my room,” Steve said. “I was thirteen, right? I thought I was seriously sick or something, my hands were on my dick so much. And I was thinking about Janet and Chrissy making out-”  


“Friends of yours?” Billy muttered, his chest rising and falling a little quicker.

Steve snorted a laugh and said, “ _Three’s Company_ , dude.”  


“Oh, right.” He felt stupid. He’d watched a ton of that show trying to figure out why he was attracted to John Ritter who seemed like a complete dope. “Go on, go on.”

“So I’m like goin’ pretty good, but then I turn my head and there’s Leif Garrett on my wall with the shirt all unbuttoned and the painted on jeans and I just imagined his big mouth wrapped around my dick suddenly and holy shit, dude, I came so hard I thought I was gonna die.” He laughed then, seemingly at himself and that was good because he wasn’t noticing Billy’s rapt attention as his hands slowly moved down his stomach only to abruptly stop, trying to decide if this was the right moment to just go ahead and jerk off or if that would freak Steve out...

“ _Shit_ ,” Billy whispered, squirming in the sheets.

“I was thirteen, dude,” Steve said lightly. “Don’t get so horny over it.”

“Trust me,” Billy muttered. “I’m not imagining you were thirteen.”

“Ha!” Steve grinned and covered his eyes, pleased and embarrassed both, and now he peeked through his fingers at Billy and said, “Mmm… I messed around with this guy at camp once.”

Billy’s stomach dipped and he felt a keen sense of disappointment. He’d perhaps stupidly just assumed Steve had never touched a boy beyond _maybe_ some kind of sleep-over circle jerk. He’d fantasized a million times about teaching Steve what a dick could really do but on the other hand… Steve wasn’t just talk… That was _something_ alright.

“Tell me,” Billy said firmly.

Steve rubbed his eye and leaned on his hand again, that shy smile burrowing its way into the heart that seemed to have grown too big since the monster had threatened it. “Um...okay so, it was at summer camp after freshman year. David Ricci. We were counselors in training? I don’t know how it happened, we were just like...hanging out in the woods one day and then he just like leaned over and kissed me and we jerked each other off. And we did a bunch of stuff over the summer like…”

“Like what?” Billy pressed.

“Blow-jobs mainly,” Steve said softly.

Billy sat up and turned on his side to look at Harrington. “Are you...you telling me you’ve had a dick in your mouth, pretty boy?”

He watched Steve’s lips twitch and curve up and he couldn’t breathe at all. “Yeah.”

“Did you like it?”

“ _Hell_ yeah.”

Billy gave up. He groaned and slumped over into his hands and he heard Steve giggling. He’d sort of fallen into Steve’s chest and now he sat up and licked his lips, and they stared at each other in the moonlight.

“I’ve never told anyone that,” Steve whispered. “Not about David, not even that I like guys. Not Nancy or Tommy or anybody.”

Reflexively Billy snapped, “Not gonna _tell_ anybody-”

“That’s not what I mean,” Steve said. “I just mean...I’ve never told anyone.”

Billy nodded. “Was this David hot?”

“Mm.” Steve shrugged. “Yeah. Looked like Chachi.”

“Oh, I’d fuck Chachi,” Billy said. He could not, in any universe, help himself, or at least not in the course of this conversation and said, “Was he hotter than me?”

“Pfft. No.” Steve chewed furiously on his lip.

“Shit, Harrington…” 

Billy felt like a king suddenly. More so than any time he’d bested Steve when he was gunning for the crown. He’d had the same feeling when Steve had implied he was a hero.

“Mmm…” Steve laid down on his back and took a deep breath and said, “Jesus, I’m hard.”

Billy immediately changed his mind about his entire agenda and said, “Look, I’m not like one hundred percent here but...my _hands_ are working just fine at the moment…” He scooted a little closer to Steve who gazed up at him, licking his lips.

Steve said, “I wasn’t like… I’m not trying to…” And yet his hands disappeared under the covers as he looked up at Billy who couldn’t see anything with the giant comforter covering Steve below the waist. “Damn…” He sighed and Billy’s mouth fell open as he realized Steve was actually jerking off while he looked up at him. He ever so casually reached over and slowly pulled down comforter and Steve didn’t stop him as he moved more obviously, his breath quick. Steve arched his back a little just as the comforter was pulled all the way down to reveal the massively tented running shorts beneath which a truly impressive hardon bulged as Steve palmed himself over the tight polyester fabric. His own cock throbbed in his shorts and he squirmed even as he took a leap and reach out to press his palm to Steve’s chest. At that touch alone, Steve gasped and they stared at each other, wordless now as Billy slowly slid his hand down, luxuriating in the feel of that lean torso he’d been drooling over for nearly a year.

“God,” Steve muttered, squeezing his eyes shut. “ _Shit_ …” 

“I got you, baby,” Billy whispered, and he turned his arm, shifting around to get a better angle.  His hand disappeared beneath the waistband of those tiny running shorts and Steve moaned, bucking his hips little. 

Steve felt so big and firm and hot in his hand, better than he’d imagined, and he’d imagined it a lot. The polyester was already a little damp and Billy shoved it down further, Steve’s cock springing free, and Billy took it in his thick fingers.

“Shit, Steve,” Billy murmured, transfixed by the sight of his own hand stroking Steve’s dick. “You’re not supposed to be a grower _and_ a shower.”

Steve laughed at that even as he moved, his eyes heavy-lidded as he pressed up into Billy’s hand. “Billy…”

“God, say that again,” Billy muttered.

“ _Billy_.”

Billy pressed up against him and didn’t know if he should go in for a kiss and anyway it was so good to see Steve like this, helpless with pleasure as Billy stroked him, his own dick throbbing. 

“Ah… You’re way hotter than Chachi,” Steve said, breathless, smiling a little.

“Hotter than Leif Garrett?”

“God, so much hotter,” Steve said, and then threw his head back crying out and grabbing Billy’s arm, not to shove it away but to hang onto it, and a minute later he came and Billy couldn’t breathe. He could not put a thought together in his head as spurts of white cum spilled over his fingers and onto Steve’s stomach. Steve writhed in the sheets, moaning as Billy stroked him through it until he gently pushed Billy’s hand away, but turned on his side to face him, wide-eyed.

“Are you okay?” Steve said quickly.  


“What, yeah?” Billy said, and rested his now sticky hand on Steve’s hip, absently wiping jizz on his shorts. Steve pulled his shorts back up, ignoring all the mess, and it felt kind of gross and awesome but Billy kept his hand there on Steve’s hip which felt just casual enough and also almost like an embrace.

“I-I just feel kinda bad,” Steve said. “Like I’m...I mean you’re like sick and-”  


“You did not take advantage of me in my vulnerable state, Harrington,” Billy said dryly. 

“Okay,” Steve said, grinning. “Good. Um, do you want me to-”

“Next time,” Billy said. He’d gotten lucky nothing bad had happened yet, but he was genuinely worried if he came, some stupid virus-related thing would happen and he’d never have the guts to get anywhere near Steve Harrington’s dick again.

“Next time,” Steve said, curled up close to Billy, his eyes bright even in the darkness. “There’s a next time? Interesting assumption.”

“There’ll be a next time,” Billy said, smug as ever as they lay there, nearly nose to nose. “And it’ll change your _life_.”

Steve didn’t say anything to that, he just laughed and breathed and looked shy again. They lay there quietly for a while and Billy was no closer to sleeping. Instead he just basked in the moment. It occurred to him now that he needed to figure out how to get to one hundred percent so he could show Steve Harrington how it was really done and also perhaps somehow trick him into being his boyfriend. 

“Are you going to sleep?” Steve finally said.

“Probably not.”

“Not tired?”

“Just forget it,” Billy said, now turning over and away from Harrington. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

Billy only grunted and Steve said, “Man, after all that, you can’t tell me? It’s just us here…”

Billy closed his eyes, forgetting for a moment, and immediately felt that sensation of being propelled into space. His eyes snapped open again and he said, “If I close my eyes, it’s like...I’m floating up like...I’m gonna shoot into space or something? It’s some monster aftermath thing. It blows. Can’t sleep like that.”

“Oh,” Steve said. “Weird.”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm…”

“It’s fine, Harrington.”

“What if I like...held you down?”

_Kinky_ , was Billy’s first thought. But he said, “What are you talking about?”

He felt Steve moving and then he was pressed up against Billy, spooning him, his arm over him as he held him fast. “Like this?” Steve whispered. “Try closing your eyes now?”

Billy swallowed and, dreading the inevitable rushing into the void, he closed his eyes. For a second he felt as if he were about to float and he jerked slightly in Steve’s arms. But somehow Steve had convinced his messed up mind that he was down on the ground, or tethered to it at least.

“Shit,” Billy murmured. “That’s so much better.”

Embarrassing maybe, but he had just seen Steve’s O face and Steve had already held his hair back when he barfed and helped him walk and _this_ was, Billy had to admit, not exactly a trial.  
“Good,” Steve said, and Billy heard the smile in his voice. “I got you.”

Billy kept his eyes shut, intending now to sleep, and afraid if he opened them again, the spell would be broken. He was dozing off when Steve’s thumb moved, absently caressing his chest. And the tiny gesture felt so momentous, as it where a question, as if Steve were straight out asking if this was real and Billy said out loud, “Okay,” his mind a little fuzzy as he dropped off.

But behind him, he heard Steve sleepily say, “I got you, baby.” And he held Billy a little tighter.


	8. Chapter 8

Today was going to be a good day, Max decided.

It was annoying to have to get up so early in the summer, but she was getting used to it and anyway, once at Steve’s house there was the pool, the Apple computer, pizza money, and a pretty impressive VHS collection… It wasn’t too much work to look after Billy who was getting better every day. What Billy would do when he felt better, Max had no idea, and when she thought about how Neil had kicked him out just when he’d actually become an okay person (the kind of dude who could potentially be a real older brother and not an asshole, especially after pulling a huge hero move) she got angry. But she wasn’t thinking about that now as she skated down the street, Lucas and Will riding after her on their bikes, as they made their way to Loch Nora.

“YOU’RE WONDERING YOU WHO I AM!” Max sang.

“Secret secret!” Will sang behind her. “I’ve got a secret!”

“MACHINE OR MANNEQUIN!”

“Secret secret,” Lucas said more than sang, seeming slightly self-conscious. “I’ve got a secret.”

She glanced back at him reproachfully and then skated around a wide curve. “With parts made in Japan!”

“Secret secret!” Will belted out. “I’ve got a secret!”

“I am the modern _man_!” They all said together, and now Max skated up onto Steve’s driveway and hopped off her board, quickly picking it up as the boys dropped their bikes on the lawn.

They were done singing but Will still softly continued as they walked up to the front door and Max found the spare key. “ _Domo arigato_ , Mr. Robotoooo.”

Max dutifully unlocked the door and hid the key under the mat again. 

“Helloooo!” Lucas said. 

Usually Steve was downstairs by now, bustling around in the kitchen or just pounding down the stairs in his uniform and worried about being late. But the house was quiet, and they went to the kitchen to hunt for breakfast since they didn’t have Mrs. Henderson’s muffins or donuts today.

“Apple Jacks,” Will declared, taking a box out of the cabinet. He went to the fridge and took out a carton of milk and sniffed at it, his face twisting up in disgust. 

“Oh, gross.” Will tossed the milk in the trash and made a mental note to take it out later.  


“Dry then,” Lucas said shrugging, and Will took out a handful of Apple Jacks, tossing it into his mouth before giving it over to Lucas.

“Steve needs to go shopping,” Max said. “STEEEEVE!”

“Maybe he’s still asleep,” Will said, shrugging. 

“What if something’s wrong…” Max jogged to the stairs and ran, two at a time. The boys remained in the kitchen, scarfing down dry cereal.

Max went to the guest room first and found an empty bed that looked half-made. For a moment her heart flipped over, but if something had happened Steve would surely have called or called someone else who would contact Max on a walkie or Will or Lucas…

Steve’s door was ajar, and she walked in, the morning light bright through the vertical blinds, and stopped short.

Max’s mouth dropped open.

There appeared to be two figures in bed.

Steve was in bed, on his side, back bare, the covers around his waist.

She couldn’t see the other side but...it sure looked like...

Sure that she couldn’t be seeing what she thought she was seeing, Max tiptoed around to the other side of the bed. Steve was dead to the world and now, yes it was true, there was Billy.

Steve was spooning Billy, his arms tight around him. Billy was also asleep. 

Billy was also shirtless.

Had they...had...what...

_Whoa_.

She knew about Billy.

But Steve…

_Steve?_

Max knew that Billy had told both Eleven and Will that “Steve always made him happy.” And Billy was gay and once she’d thought about it of course Billy had probably had a huge crush on Steve forever but he’d been all Scary Billy before…

But _Steve_?

Max stood there for a moment, trying to get her head around what she was seeing.

Steve was going to be late for work…

Max had an epiphany and now she tiptoed again, backwards this time, just the way she had come. She had never been to church a day in her life except for a couple of Christmases when her mom had felt it might gain them some brownie points to go, just in case there really was a God, as an attempt at an insurance policy. But now she prayed to the gods of both humans and demogorgons that Will and Lucas would not come upstairs before she could get to them and also that Steve and Billy would not wake up. Her heartbeat seemed far too loud now and her breath sounded like a bear’s as she crept backwards out of Steve’s room and closed the door just how it had been, and she lightly jogged to the stairs and down just about halfway before licking her lips and taking a breath. Then she stomped heavily on the stairs.

“STEEEEEEEEEEEVE! ARE YOU UP!” She screamed it as loud as she could without sounding hysterical even as she took a few more steps down. “HEY STEEEEEEEEVE! BILLYYYY!”

From the kitchen, she heard Lucas yell, “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!”

Then she heard some startled cursing from Steve’s room and a loud thump and she ran all the way down the stairs to give them as much time as possible. It couldn’t look like she knew a thing, she decided, except that now Steve was stumbling out of his room, wearing a little pair of running shorts and looking horrified as he pushed his disastrous hair back. He stood on the landing, gaping down at her.

“ _Max_?”

“Hi, I just got here!” Max said in a rush. “I mean we...just got here! Just now!”

She heard a mumbled, “Shit shit…” It definitely wasn’t Steve because he was looking right at her.

She rolled her eyes.

_Dumbass_.

“It’s after eight!” Max said.

“Dammit,” Steve said, and ran into his room again, slamming the door, before sticking his head out to say, “Don’t come up, okay!”

“He’s _late_ ,” Lucas said, appearing at the foot of the stairs. “Does he know he’s late?”

“I’m sure he knows!” Max said, her hair whipping around as she looked at him.

“We’ll just be downstairs!” Max shouted. “We’re not coming up or anything!” She turned around and shoved Lucas in the direction of the kitchen. “Go go go!”

In the kitchen, Will was sitting on a stool, eating dry Apple Jacks from a bowl with a spoon which seemed to Max, totally unnecessary. He blinked at her owlishly and swallowed and said, “Is Billy okay?”

“Yeah!” Max said, pushing back her hair. “He’s totally okay.”

Max thought she might explode with the knowledge she possessed and did not know what to do with it. She was closer to Lucas, of course, but Lucas was likely to act weird around Billy and Steve because of it and then tell Dustin and Mike who would both _definitely_ act weird. But Will was different. Will would get it. Eleven, Max knew, would just accept it like she generally accepted a lot of things about humans that some humans didn’t accept.

Lucas was frowning at her and said, “What’s the matter with you?”

Max tried to smile and throw up her hands. “Nothing!”

Lucas did not look like he believed her and she wondered when she could get Will alone before her brain exploded from the knowledge.

Minutes later, Steve came thumping down the stairs in his uniform and Billy came down with him, looking frustrated at his own slow pace as his bathrobe hung open over sweatpants. She watched Steve, who was already running late, carefully holding Billy around the waist as he made his way down one slow step at a time. Max stood awkwardly in the foyer and watched the way they stared at each other for a second and then Steve let go of Billy who leaned on the banister, chewing his lip.

“Okay,” Steve says, scratching his neck. “Um, you guys…”

“We’re good,” Max said, nodding. She heard Lucas walk up behind her.

“No more boxing for God’s sake!” Steve said, pointing at Billy and then Lucas.

Billy cracked a smile at that and tittered and Lucas raised his hands in defense. “Okay okay!”

“Alright,” Steve said, checking his watch and sighing. “I’ll see you guys later.” He left Billy with one last look as if there was something more he wanted to say, but instead turned to go.

Steve was about to walk out the door when Billy said, “Hey! Steve!” He shuffled toward the door a few steps and Max could see the tension in his shoulders. It wasn’t an angry kind of tension; it was something else. Billy was nervous. It looked weird on him but she could see it plain as day. 

“Hmm?” Steve whipped around and looked Billy up and down, fiddling with the door knob.

“Have a...good day at work,” Billy mumbled. “Don’t let the bastards get you down, huh?”

Max snorted at that but she watched a grin spread across Steve’s face as he nodded. “Yeah, okay, Billy. See ya later.”

“Yeah.”

_They really like each other_ , Max thought. _Whoa_.

“That was weird,” Lucas muttered. “I’ve never seen Billy tell anybody to have a good day.”

“I didn’t see anything weird,” Max said, spinning around. She saw Will standing behind Lucas and they exchanged a significant look. Maybe she didn’t need to talk to him alone after all.

Billy was staring at the door looking oddly pensive, and now he shuffled over them, nudging Max. “I want toast. And eggs. And juice! And _coffee._ ”

They watched him head into the kitchen, looking very determined and Lucas said, “ _Eggs_? You’re just gonna barf em’ up.”

“Nah, I’m gonna keep it down this time, Sinclair,” Billy said. “This invalid shit is for the birds. It ends now.” He sat down on a stool at the counter and made a motion with his hand as if to reach for a cigarette that wasn’t there. “Shit.”

“I’ll make you breakfast!” Will declared and Max saw Billy’s almost fond look at him as he started bustling around, digging out a pan and a plate.

“So you’re feeling better?” Max said, leaning on the counter next to Billy. 

She couldn’t remember ever seeing him so...normal seeming. He was staring at nothing, a little smile on his face. She wondered if he was thinking about Steve.

“Not one hundred percent,” he said, tapping his fingers on the counter. “But I’ll get there or die tryin’. Hey Sinclair…” He leaned back to look at Lucas standing behind Max. “ _Rambo_ today?”

“Yeah!” Lucas said, lighting.

“Ugh.” Max rolled her eyes. “ _Rambo_.”

“I like _Rambo_ ,” Will piped up.

“Ha!” Billy slapped his palms on the counter. “Byers is with me. You’re such a _girl_ , Max.”

Max curled her lips and flipped Billy double birds. “Screw you guys. I’m gonna go play _Enchanted Sceptres_.”

* * *

 

Max grabbed the box of Cheerios and headed upstairs once Billy was settled into his nook on the couch with the boys. _Enchanted Sceptres_ had become a new obsession and she quickly fell into the rhythm of the game, advancing gradually and muttering little exclamations to herself at every accomplishment, her walkie by her side in case anything happened with Billy. She didn’t know how much time had passed when she rolled her neck, realizing she was stiff and that her eyes felt dry from staring at the glowing black and white pixilations on the screen for extended periods. She decided she wanted a Coke but impulsively pushed off from Steve’s desk and spun around in his desk chair, seeing a blur of Billy go by that made her yelp in surprise.

“Max,” Billy said with a nod. He hovered in the doorway, gazing around Steve’s room, his hands in the pockets of Mr. Harrington’s bathrobe. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen a pack of smokes squirreled away in here.”

“No,” Max said darkly. “And Steve said you shouldn’t be smoking.”

“Bite me,” he said, without the slightest fire. He ambled inside and began poking around, chewing his lip, moving Steve’s things around as he searched out a pack. 

“You shouldn’t snoop either,” Max said.

“Harrington won’t mind,” Billy said, rolling his eyes. “Put a sock in it, Pippi Longstocking.” He pushed a stack of books aside atop Steve’s dresser and Max saw him pause. He picked up a thick notebook, not hesitating to flip it open. “Hello…”

“Billy,” Max said darkly.

“Shut up.” He plopped down on the bed and, curious herself, she stood and looked over his shoulder. The notebook was actually a sketchbook and Billy was thumbing through it with a funny smile on his face. She sat down next to him and her eyebrows raised at an impressive and detailed sketch of Dustin laughing. “Holy shit,” Billy murmured. “These are good.”

“ _Steve_ drew that?” Max said. 

“Yeah,” Billy said. He flipped through page after page, pausing at particularly good sketches of hands and objects and even demogorgons. He stopped short suddenly and Max heard a little squeaking sound coming from the back of Billy’s throat because the room was very quiet, outside of the crisp turn of pages and the soft sporadic beep of _Enchanted Sceptres_ on pause.

“It’s you,” Max whispered, because she felt like somebody needed to say something as the two of them sat there looking at Billy on the page in pencil. It was Billy sleeping. There was actually more than one sketch of Billy sleeping. This one was particularly detailed, it covered a page and she could tell it had been drawn when Billy was still having particularly rough nights and ugly nightmares because it captured both the softness of Billy asleep and the little wrinkle between his eyes, the tension that signified he was not sleeping _well_. 

It didn’t seem at all like something Billy would _like_. He could get pissed off about anything close to an invasion of privacy. She had been on the wrong side of his wrath more than once for daring to venture into his room when he wasn’t around. 

He didn’t seem unhappy with this though.

He turned the page again and there was another sketch of Billy. In this one, he was awake and wearing a cocky smirk. The drawing captured his impossibly bright eyes yet they seemed a little haunted, his brow slightly furrowed.

“It’s _you_!” Max blurted, louder this time. She couldn’t remember ever seeing a drawing, especially one in pencil scribbled in the notebook of somebody she knew that looked so...convincing. And not only that but it captured the Billy she had come to know as of late so well. 

There was something very personal seeming about both of the drawings and she could tell they pleased Billy. She thought of what she’d seen that morning and wondered… She felt like she was sitting on a powder keg of knowledge but now Billy just slammed the notebook shut. He was smiling and pretending he wasn’t as he bit his lip and stood from the bed, swaying for a second because he was still pretty weak and couldn’t move very fast or very much. 

“You alright?” Max said.

“Max…” Billy muttered, his mouth twitching, curving up and then down as if he was violently fighting a grin, “I am fantastic.”

“Are you going back downstairs?” Max said. “You need help?”  
“ _No_ ,” Billy said, practically growling. But at the top of the stairs, he stumbled on the first step and grimaced. “ _Shit_.”

“Don’t be a baby,” Max said. “Just take my arm. Be careful.”

“Yeah yeah yeah…”

* * *

 

“I don’t like this,” Billy said crossing his arms and sneering at the dice on the table. “I gotta leave it up to chance? What if it makes me weak as shit?”

Lucas met Dustin’s eyes across the table and they shook their heads, aggrieved. “It’s the _rules_ ,” Mike insisted, rubbing his eyes. “You have to roll for ability.”

The D&D board was spread atop the coffee table and the kids were crowded around it, as Billy held court from his nook on the couch where he sipped ginger ale with a trash bin by his side because his stomach was tied up again although he had not actually vomited that day which Max called a win.

“Fine,” Billy said, sighing. 

He argued with every roll of the die but seemed appeased at the roll for strength. “Jesus, this is tedious,” he mumbled. “When do we fight dragons and shit?”

“We have to set it up first!” Lucas said.

“This is gonna take a year,” Dustin muttered, but he didn’t seem displeased as he sat watching Billy and Mike roll for every little trait and skill.

“Okay, so you’re really strong,” Mike said. “That’s good, see?”

“Well, I’m a barbarian, right?” Billy said. He had found a couple of stray cigarettes stashed in Steve’s room but seemed to be saving them. One was perched over his ear, the other hung out of his mouth, unlit, bouncing in his lips as he talked. “I should think so.”

Max watched all of this and wondered if she’d fallen into some other version of the Upside Down. She had taken over the easy chair and Eleven sat on the floor in front of her next to Mike, an amused smile on her face as Max braided her hair. Will was on the couch next Billy with a big smile on his face as if nothing on earth was more entertaining than this.

The revelation that Billy was so bored he was willing to play Dungeons & Dragons had brought all the others immediately to Steve’s house, if only out of morbid curiosity.

They had ordered pizza , and Billy had eaten _two_ slices which was why there was a trash bin by his side. Max had the sense that all six of them were actively rooting for Billy not to throw up since this was the first real food he had eaten in so long. It still felt a little strange to be rooting for anything when it came to Billy but she found she didn’t dislike it. He was being...fun.

But she still hated Stallone movies.

There was also the epiphany of Steve and Billy as...a _thing_. She wanted to get Will and Eleven alone before it exploded out of her but there was no way to do it smoothly so she sat with it and braided Eleven’s hair and watched Billy roll for stealth.

When they were finally done setting up Billy’s character, Mike started explaining his role as Dungeon Master to Billy who looked beyond bored and appeared to be falling asleep, when there was a knock at the door. Or rather, there was an insistent pounding at the door that made them all jerk and tense up. There was a mild sense of danger that they all felt and everybody but Billy looked at Eleven who already looked wary but not very bothered.

“I’ll get it,” Max said, hopping to her feet, and she saw Lucas jump up. She looked at him gratefully as he followed. When she looked back, Billy was staggering to his feet too.

Whoever was at the door pounded again. She briefly wondered if it was Hopper, but when she opened the door, she felt her whole body tense up all at once and her cheeks burned.

Her step-father stood in the doorway. He only nodded at her but his expression darkened when he saw Lucas behind her. She whipped around and said to Lucas, “Go back in there, I’ll talk to him.”

“Max,” Lucas muttered.

“ _Please_ -”

“Maxine,” Neil Hargrove said. “I’m here to pick up Billy.”

Billy appeared behind her as did all the other kids who hovered around, looking uncertain. She turned and saw the stricken expression on Billy’s face and it was Eleven who looked angry now in her stoic way. She stood in front of Billy, as coldly determined as any other time she had fought monsters.

“What do you mean pick me up?” Billy said, but he did not come to the door and stood awkwardly in the foyer, crossing his arms. 

“Billy.” Neil smiled then and looked him up and down. “You’re looking a lot better than the last time I saw you.”

“What do you care?” 

The kids look back and forth between them and Max swallowed, knowing well enough how disagreements between Billy and his father could go down. She often thought of the times she’d heard certain sounds from Billy’s room when his father went in there and deliberately ignored them and even thought that Billy deserved it. She felt bad about that sometimes.

“Alright,” his father said, and rubbed his eyes as if seeking patience. “Enough backtalk. This has gone on long enough. You’re ready to come home and we will discuss what-”  
“Dad, what are you _talking_ about?” Billy snapped. “You kicked me out!”

“You trashed the house!” His father said. “You terrorized-”  
“He was sick!” Everyone said some variation of it at once. Neil didn’t know the truth, not exactly. But Max knew that both Hopper and Dr. Owens had given Neil a pretty convincing explanation for his behavior. It didn’t seem to have helped Billy’s case.

“Sick,” Neil said, rolling his eyes. “Sure. I know you were on drugs, Billy. It’s obvious. And this behavior stops now-”

“Get out of here,” Billy said slowly. “I’m eighteen now, I don’t have to do _shit_.”

“You’re my son. As big a disappointment as you are, you’re still my son,” Neil said, the two of them glaring at each other. “And you will get your things and get in my car right now. You have a _lot_ to answer for.”

The way he said it, it was clear what “answering” entailed. She felt all the kids around silently working that out. If Billy went with Neil, he wouldn’t be getting better any time soon. 

Billy’s _life_ was in danger. She glanced at Mike who looked back at her, startled, as if asking her if it was as bad as he thought. Max nodded at him and he nodded back, taking a deep breath and fixing his face into a glare of determination to match his girlfriend’s.

Max saw the rise and fall of Billy’s chest and didn’t miss the way he held himself, tensed, waiting for a fight. He dropped his arms and clenched them at his sides and, his eyes shining, said, “No.”

“You get in the car right now or I swear to God I’ll-”  
“You’ll do _what_!” Max said and reared up, standing between Neil and Billy. Eleven stood next to her and the others shifted, crowding behind them, crossing their arms and looking ready to come to blows if Neil Hargrove so much as threatened his son again.

Max glanced back at Billy who watched the stand-off, his face twisted up into confusion and something else more difficult to name.

But even she was surprised when Lucas said, “Get outta here or we’ll call the chief of police!”

Neil sneered at Lucas, and took a step toward him. “You _little_ -”

“Hey!” Billy moved abruptly, shoving through the kids and putting himself between Lucas and Neil. “You touch any of them and I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch!”

Max’s eyes went wide as saucers. She had seen Billy talk back to his father before, here and there. It clearly held a price. She had never seen him talk to his father like _that_ and certainly not in defense of anyone else. 

Several things happened at once. 

Neil shoved his son hard and Billy stumbled back, falling to the floor. Max shouted and all the kids did but then Neil was flying, as Max had expected he would. El’s expression was fierce as an invisible force shoved him out the door and put him on his butt on the pavement of Steve’s front walk, the door slamming shut and locking.

“I’m calling Hopper!” Will said, running to the kitchen.

“Good idea,” Dustin mumbled, standing there looking winded by the entire incident.

Max ran to Billy and knelt at his side. He was just now sitting up, looking pale and pained. He tugged on his robe, opening and closing his mouth, his eyes wide. “Shit…”

“I’m guarding the door,” Eleven said, and stood, feet apart and arms crossed as she glared at the front door, Mike still beside her.

“Are you alright?” Max said. Lucas knelt beside her and he patted Billy’s shoulder. 

“Your dad’s a real asshole,” Lucas said.  


“No shit, Sinclair,” Billy said. “Jesus.” But she saw his eyes watering. “Jesus… Hey, get outta here, will ya?” He covered his face and Max and Lucas looked at each other, uncertain. 

Max said, “But-”

“Leave me alone!” Billy bit out, and he choked, beginning to cry. He covered his face with both hands as he sat there on the floor and the others approached. Max dimly heard the sound of Neil’s car pulling away and relaxed a little. “Will you dipshits just leave me _alone_?”

“Billy,” Max said softly. “It’s okay…”

“I told him Mr. Hargrove left,” Will said quietly as he came back in the foyer. “He’s going to patrol…” His voice faded when he saw Billy crouched on the floor, sobbing.

This was hardly a habit but Max found herself wrapping her arms around Billy’s neck. They were a bit alike, she thought. She knew that now if she hadn’t known it before because she found herself horribly embarrassed by this show of affection toward her brother, and she shut her eyes.

She heard the others approaching around her and then Eleven was kneeling and hugging Billy and then Will and the others followed, all six of them enfolding him and it was a little awkward and strange, Max thought, but Billy didn’t fight them off as they all embraced him.


	9. Chapter 9

Steve leaned on the counter, summed up every vestige of strength within him, and said, “Ahoy. How can I help you?

Keith from the Palace Arcade, looking sour as usual, and who still had a bit of chocolate syrup left on his bottom lip from his first order, blinked at Steve and said, “U.S.S. Butterscotch Sundae.”

He didn’t say please which rankled Steve. Not that he was so precious about things usually, but he had become more sensitive to the little niceties that people seemed to forget when they were ordering ice cream at the mall. People, Steve had learned over the course of his summer at Scoops, were _terrible._

Steve nodded and said, “Comin’ right up.” He rang up Keith and grabbed the scoop from his holster.

He checked his watch for the tenth time in the last twenty minutes and for possibly the millionth time in the last eight hours, he thought of Billy in the dark, pressed up against him, jerking him off… He thought of Billy smirking at him in the shower and even of sitting on the bathroom floor next to Billy as they talked.

All he could think about lately was Billy.

He worried about him all day and thought of things Billy had said that made him laugh and how he’d told Billy such secret things, things he’d always thought he’d have to take to the grave. It wasn’t just that they had this one thing in common either or a mutual physical attraction. It felt as if he had all kinds of things in common with Billy, more than he ever would have thought. It felt lately as if they’d lent each other their hearts to peruse.

Steve bounced on his toes and dribbled the butterscotch syrup over the ice cream, sprinkled some crushed nuts, and threw a cherry on top. He slid the ice cream across the counter towards Keith who frowned at it.

“It has three cherries in the picture,” Keith said flatly.

Steve checked his watch. It was now five minutes after four. He could leave now. He sighed heavily and scooped up two cherries and dropped them on the sundae.

Keith frowned at the sundae again. “Little light on the nuts.”

“So are you!” Steve said, practically growling.

Keith looked deeply offended at that but only took his sundae and left. Steve untied his apron and jogged into the back room just as the next shift appeared. He spun the combination of his locker and traded his apron for his keys, wallet, and Ray Bans. He could not remember ever having been more impatient to get home from work or school in his life. His heart pounded in his chest. He felt like his skin was on fire. In the back of his mind there thumped a pulsing chant like music from another room at a party: _Billy Billy Billy…_

On the drive home, Steve thought yet again about how Billy was doing much better. He wondered if Billy was doing well enough to get more physical? He wondered if Billy definitely _wanted_ to get more physical? Did he want more than that? Steve wanted more than that. Steve wanted to take Billy to the drive-in outside town and park under that one tree where there was a decent enough view of the screen and also a lot of privacy. He wanted to get Billy in there at midnight on a Friday when everyone else was at The Hawk or the new multiplex at the mall and make Billy shake from coming so hard. He’d thought about it _a lot_. They also had the whole rest of the summer together and then at some point, Billy would be just fine. And what would they do then? What did Billy want then? Steve’s thoughts raced in furious circles. He felt like a giddy dog left off its leash.

The best part was that he had the next day off and that opened up a whole world of possibilities.

He was driving into Loch Nora when he saw Hop’s truck coming from the direction of his own house and Steve tensed up, gripping his steering wheel. Had something happened?

Hopper waved at him and slowed so Steve pulled over next to the truck in the middle of the road. He rolled down his window and squinted up at Hopper, hastily taking off his dopey sailor hat as he looked up at the dour-faced chief of police.

“Chief, what’s goin’ on?” Steve said.

“Harrington,” Hopper said with a nod. “I was just patrolling. Anybody call you?”

“No,” Steve said, panic already coursing through him. “What happened?”

“Nothing much,” Hopper said, waving a hand. “Just that Neil Hargrove showed up wanting to take Billy home and things started to get ugly-”  


“ _Shit_.”

“He left,” Hopper said quickly. “But I plan on getting between the two of them if I need too. Billy’s eighteen now. He doesn’t have to go home if he doesn’t want to.”

“Is he okay?” Steve said. “Is he hurt?”

“Sounded like he just got shoved around a bit-”  


“Son of a bitch,” Steve hissed.

“You guys, you two are friends now, huh?” Hopper said, seeming mildly amused.

Hopper didn’t look like he meant the slightest thing by it but Steve blushed bright red right down to his toes and his mouth went dry suddenly. “Oh...yeah. Yeah, sure. Yeah.”

“Good,” Hopper said. Anything else he had to say, he kept to himself. He nodded back at Steve and said, “You call me if there’s any trouble?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. See ya later, kid.”

Steve nodded and drove on, the couple more blocks to his own driveway. 

He was peeved.

That nobody had called him when something of import had actually occurred beyond crying really ticked him off, and by the time he was slamming the front door shut and tossing his hat on the side table with his keys and stomping off to follow the sound of voices from the back yard, he had worked himself up into a good head of steam. 

When he saw the view of his backyard through the sliding glass door, Steve stopped short, and stared, his anger just as quickly dissipating. The Harringtons had a basketball hoop attached to a rolling platform. Somebody had rolled it out and Steve watched Billy, who was leaning against the patio table, smoking. Billy was wearing the now familiar Mr. Harrington bathrobe and the tails of the belt hung down to the ground as the robe fell open to reveal that he was also wearing Steve’s Camp Sunshine 1982 t-shirt. The Camp Sunshine shirt was apparently his favorite.

But that was not the sight that made Steve creep forward, slowly sliding the door open as he wondered if he was now the one hallucinating.

Will Byers, Mike Wheeler, Lucas Sinclair, and Jane were standing in a line in front of the basketball hoop. Will was in front, tentatively dribbling a basketball. Now Billy stuck his cigarette in his mouth and ambled up to Will. He stood next to the kid and borrowed the ball and Steve watched him slowly go through the motions of shooting a free throw up to the point of actually shooting. 

“I toldja, you let it roll off your fingers, Byers,” Billy said. “And arch your wrist.” He glared at the line of kids and said, “Listen, this eighty-pound A.V. Club dweeb at my old school was like the free throw king okay? If he can do it, even you pussies can do it, yeah? It’s all in the form.”

The boys looked offended by that but they remained in line anyway, nodding uncertainly.

Steve looked around the yard, perhaps searching for a hidden camera, and instead saw Dustin and Max sitting on the edge of the pool looking irritated at the goings on with the basketball hoop, as they poured over D&D books.

Billy tossed the ball to Will and squinted, sucking on his Marlboro. Will made a shot that missed and chased the ball, dribbling awkwardly as he went back to the front of the line. 

“That shot wasn’t as pathetic as last time. Try again,” Billy said.

Steve stopped at the patio chair and watched Will bite his lip and screw his face up in concentration. He shot the ball a little too slowly, but his form was decent. He didn’t make the shot but he came closer.

“Dang,” Will muttered.

Billy shrugged at him. “I’ve never seen so many kids shoot so much and miss _every_ time. It’s almost impressive.”

Will passed him the ball and Billy dribbled it before passing it to Mike as Will went to the back of the line again, chagrinned. “Hey, that was a step up from hopeless,” Billy said, as if it was encouraging.

“Um…” Steve cleared his throat and everyone turned to look at him. Steve glanced Billy, whose face softened noticeably and Steve’s stomach swooped inside him. “What the hell is going on?”

“Ahoy!” Billy said, smirking.

Steve saw the teasing glint in his eye and swallowed, biting back a smile. Will came running up to him, bouncing on his toes. He was sweaty. It was the first time Steve had ever seen Will Byers sweaty when he wasn’t possessed. “Billy says if we can’t shoot free throws or do push-ups, everybody in high school is going to kick our asses!”

“Well…” Steve nodded. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“So he’s showing us how to do free throws!” Will said, as if it still needed explanation. “Then we’re doing push-ups and pull-ups, if we can find a thing to pull up on.”

“I’m not doing pull-ups,” Mike said quietly. “It hurts my hands.”

“I’m not doing any of this bullshit!” Dustin shouted from his spot by the pool. “We were having a good time campaigning and then Coach Hargrove comes along to ruin everything!”

“Such a whiner, Henderson,” Billy cracked. “This wasn’t even my idea.”

Mike dribbled and shot the ball and Steve watched it go nowhere near the basket. Mike huffed and chased it, flailing as he ran. When he returned with the ball, he looked winded. He tossed it to Lucas.

“It was my idea,” Will reported. “I don’t want to get my ass kicked, and my brother can’t shoot free throws either.”

“It’s fun!” Eleven said, looking utterly content with the whole situation.

Steve walked up to Billy and squinted at him, nudging him softly. “This is the weirdest shit I’ve ever seen,” Steve said. He watched the late afternoon sun glinting off Billy’s curls and swallowed. “Just so we’re clear.”

“I was bored,” Billy said, shrugging. “They were up for it. Not so bad, I guess.”

“Yelling at kids?” Steve said, chuckling. “Yeah, I can see how you’d be into that. You..feeling okay today? I heard some shit went down.”

Billy’s expression darkened at that and he avoided Steve’s eyes. “I’m fine, Harrington. Don’t mother me.”

“Just checking on you,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “Jesus.”

Billy ignored him and hollered at Lucas who had just very nearly made a basket. “Better form, Sinclair. Give it more power next time.” He crossed his arms and said, “You guys should train for a six-minute mile too.”

Everyone gaped at Billy as if he might still be a monster.

“I can’t run a mile in an hour,” Mike said, and Eleven giggled next to him.

Steve didn’t miss that Billy was amused by that. He was actually enjoying this. It was like watching a poodle get up on its hind legs and start tap dancing. Steve clapped his hands, approaching the kids, jogging over to steal the ball from Eleven who frowned at him. “Guys, guys. Glad you’re having fun and all but can you continue this tomorrow? I’m, ya know, tired from work and everything.”

“Did you talk to Hopper?” Max said, hopping up from the side of the pool.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “Is everyone alright? Sounded a little intense.”

“Yeah, it was just weird.” Max softy punched Billy’s shoulder and smiled up at him. It was the most affectionate thing he’d ever seen between the two of them and he watched the corner of Billy’s mouth turn up. “See you tomorrow?”

“Sure.” Billy nodded. “Don’t forget-”

“To look for the cassettes under your bed,” Max said, rolling her eyes, having clearly heard it already a hundred times. “Yeah yeah.”

“Hold on!” Steve waved a hand. “I got tomorrow off so you guys don’t have to come by. I mean you can come by with his tapes, Max.” Steve was practically vibrating every time he thought about getting a day all alone with Billy given what had happened between them the night before. “But...warn me first? Call or...walkie.”

“Okay?” She looked between them and he didn’t miss the way her cheeks went bright pink. “ _Oh._ Okay. Sure.”

“Huh?” Mike was standing there now and he looked like he was trying to figure out what she knew. She waved a hand as if it were nothing. Dustin too looked vaguely suspicious.

Steve licked his lips and said, “I just mean, ya know, we might go out? Or go check with the doctor or something so…”

That seemed to appease them but Max looked far too amused by the whole thing. 

Steve followed them out because Dustin kept asking him questions as they all collected their things. Could Steve leave pizza money again next time? Could he go grocery shopping because he was all out of both pop and Hi-C? Could he get some Otter Pops? Steve answered his questions and watched them leave and when he spun around again, he saw Billy half falling onto a deck chair as if suddenly weak, and he ran out to meet him.

“What’s the matter?” Steve demanded. He sat on the end of the chair and Billy shifted his legs to accommodate him.

“Nothing,” Billy insisted, but he sat back and rubbed his forehead. “Just...It’s getting better. Just can’t go for too long. And it’s hot out here. It’s sticky, man. At least in California, the heat is dry.” He sat up again and took off the robe and Steve’s glance flicked down Billy’s body, his old camp t-shirt tight across Billy’s chest, his little jogging shorts painted onto Billy’s thick, freckled thighs.

Steve summed up his courage since they were alone now and said, “Only getting hotter.” He gave Billy a significant look so the innuendo would not be missed.

Billy grinned, slow and sly. “That a come on?”

“I don’t know, you just…” Steve shrugged and pulled Billy’s feet into his lap, absently massaging his calves because that seemed like something you should do for a sick person. “You look really good for an invalid.”

Billy chuckled at that and he moved his feet, toeing Steve’s crotch. “Screw you.”

_Gladly_ , Steve thought.

“Are you sure you’re alright like with your dad and all that?” Steve mumbled.

“Ugh. Man, I don’t want to talk about that shit,” Billy said and he rifled around in the pocket of his robe, Steve’s pack of Marlboros appearing before Steve leaned over and grabbed it away.

“You just had one, just cool it. They’re not gonna make you feel _better_.”

Billy pursed his lips and sat back, scowling, and then he looked away staring off into the trees. Steve felt like he’d spoiled things just when they were going well. 

“He’s got my car,” Billy said darkly. “And he says I owe him money for trashing the house.”

“You don’t owe him _shit_ ,” Steve snapped. “And it’s your car! He’s gotta give it back.”

“He paid for half of it,” Billy muttered. He went quiet abruptly and looked for a moment just the way he had when he was hallucinating. “I don’t know… I don’t know where I go after this.”

“After what?” Steve said, caught up in Billy’s expression. He looked different and serious, his mouth a straight line, his curls blowing around in a warm breeze. Steve rubbed his legs and Billy glanced at him and looked away again, fidgeting with the belt of his robe.

“When I’m better, I guess,” Billy said, shrugging.

“Why go anywhere?” Steve said. “I kinda thought like… I don’t know. We could figure it out like…” He licked his lips, having no idea how to finish the sentence. He had only a vague idea of the immediate future but since taking Billy into his house he’d imagined them as now inextricably linked if only as friends, like war veterans. Steve’s grandfather had fought in World War II. He’d told Steve about his old buddies, the men he’d fought with. They’d done all kinds of things for each other. They’d become the kind of friends who would walk a thousand miles for the other guy. That’s how Steve thought of it. Now there was just an added element of sex and the chaotic passion rambling around in Steve’s head. 

“We could figure it out together,” Steve finally said. “I just mean… Whatever happens. We could figure that out together, after everything. You know?”

His heart was pounding. It felt like it was lodged somewhere in his throat. Billy stared at him blankly and Steve saw the same wide-eyed expression he’d seen on a dozen girls before, except that now Billy screwed up his face and looked away. 

“Jesus, one handjob and you’re already picking out China patterns.”

Steve felt as if all the blood in his body went to his feet and the breath went out of his lungs. He shoved Billy’s legs away from him and stood, stomping off into his kitchen, leaving Billy on the deck chair. 

Of course. Of course, he was being stupid. He was making too much of it. He was imagining Billy might care because often it seemed as if Billy cared a _lot_ and maybe always had and had been too messed up and angry to express it the right away.

But no, it was Nancy all over again, his brain said, as he slammed around the kitchen to put together a half-assed dinner of bologna sandwiches and chips. If Billy couldn’t eat it, Billy could starve, Steve thought as he slammed a jar of mayonnaise on the counter. He bit down hard on his lip, scowling. 

He was so busy he hardly noticed Billy, exhausted and staggering into the kitchen, clenching his teeth and leaning on whatever he could find that could support his weight, as he made his way over to Steve.

Now he leaned on the kitchen counter in his Camp Sunshine 1982 t-shirt and jogging shirts and frowned at Steve. 

“What?” Billy said.  
Steve only shrugged and opened the fridge again. No juice, no pop, not even milk. He couldn’t contemplate drinking water with dinner and went to the cabinet where he found a canister of instant iced tea mix. 

“Why are you pissed?” Billy said.

“Not pissed,” Steve said, slamming the cabinet door. He found the pitcher his mother used to make sangria and slammed it on the counter. “Thought maybe we were friends now or...something. But don’t let me cramp your style, Hargrove.” Steve spun around, glaring up at Billy before quickly looking away.

“Sounds real sweet Harrington.” Billy grabbed the pack of Kraft cheese slices and took an individually wrapped slice and Steve watched it flop between his fingers before he bit off a corner. “But my guess is once I’m a hundred percent and you’ve gotten your rocks off a few times, I’ll be out on my ass. I’m not stupid.”

“ _Oh_.” Steve gaped at him, the sudden epiphany taking him by surprise as Billy angrily ate a slice of over-processed cheese. Steve went around the counter and stood close to Billy, who swallowed his last bite, avoiding Steve’s gaze. “That’s not gonna happen,” Steve said quietly. 

Billy seemed to vibrate in close proximity to Steve, his gaze flitting all over the place as Steve stepped a little closer. It felt good to be making Billy nervous and know he wasn’t the only one so affected. In fact, Billy looked lost even as Steve took Billy’s hands and tugged him closer. 

Billy said, “I’m not one of your Camp Sunshine boys, Harrington. I’m not-”

Steve kissed him, cupping his cheek and wrapping an arm around him and Billy jerked for a second and then fell against him, lean heavily on Steve as he seemed to melt in Steve’s mouth. Billy tasted mildly of Kraft cheese and also cigarettes, a gross combination that made Steve smile against Billy lips because he didn’t care at all. The kiss was still so hot and he licked at Billy tongue, the two of them now lazily and wetly making out. Steve marveled at how genuinely satisfying it was to hold Billy in his arms. 

“ _Shit_.” Billy was breathless and Steve felt a sense of great triumph.

It was as if the two of them were constantly trading the upper hand back and forth. That made it hotter too, Steve decided.

“So what’s the or something?” Billy said, his voice cracking a little as he abruptly pulled away from Steve. His mouth was pink and slick now and Steve still held him close. He leaned in and nuzzled Billy’s nose and kissed only his top lip, letting Billy chase the kiss before he pulled away again. “Steve…”  


“Hmm?”

“You said we’re friends or something…”

“I thought we could figure that out too,” Steve murmured and kissed his way down to Billy’s throat. “But if this thing between us doesn’t work, whatever it is, I’m not going to desert you, Billy. None of us will. Not after everything. I promise. You’re not alone.”

“Fine whatever, I don’t need you to coddle me, ya know, I’m not some pathetic-”

Steve kissed him again and this time he held Billy tighter as he covered Billy’s mouth with his and their tongues curled together. He kept kissing until he felt Billy relax in his arms and slump against him as if he could no longer bear to stand. Steve didn’t speak, but he turned them around so that Billy was leaning on the counter and he finally pulled away, leaving Billy a little wild-eyed and breathless. Steve squeezed Billy’s shoulders and smirked before abruptly getting on his knees, hands sliding down Billy’s chest. 

Steve’s fingers snuck up under the hem of Billy’s t-shirt to feel the quivering abdominal muscles of his thick torso. He listened to Billy breathe and felt him tremble and looked up at him, seeing Billy’s red mouth part, his eyelashes fluttering.

He pushed up Billy’s t-shirt and kissed his belly, taking his sweet time even as he could feel him getting hard in his little shorts. 

“You feel so good,” he whispered, keeping his eyes on Billy. Billy nodded, his head jerking around. Steve reached around to slip his hands up under Billy’s shorts and squeezed his ass. That alone was so satisfying he almost forgot to do anything else but then he ducked his head and found how hard Billy was. He chuckled a little before taking the waistband of Billy’s shorts in his teeth, staring up at Billy before he dragged them down.

“You look so hot,” Billy muttered, panting. “Holy shit, holy shit…”

Steve felt like his cock was throbbing, as if it might actually burst right out of his Scoops Ahoy shorts, but he only kept his eyes and hands on Billy whose cock now bobbed, pink and erect. Steve would have teased it out a little, only he had been thinking of doing this all day and also for a long time before that. Even when he had hated Billy, he had imagined what it might be like to have his mouth wrapped around Billy’s cock and to see the expression he saw now; wide-eyed, flushed, helpless to pleasure.

So Steve took Billy as much into his mouth as he could get and groaned around him, enjoying that firm, hot, satisfying sense of fullness in his mouth. Billy was not as well endowed as Steve, for which now Steve was only grateful. He could take Billy in deep and suck in his cheeks and watch Billy try to hold himself up, gripping the counter behind him, his mouth wide open now as he cried out and without warning, came in Steve’s mouth. Steve dugs his fingers into Billy back, fighting the urge to cough and finally begged off Billy, coughing even as he held Billy’s cock in his hand and stroked him through his orgasm before pulling his shorts back up. Steve hopped to his feet and stayed there, crowding Billy up against the counter, softly kissing his neck, heat radiating off Billy in waves.

“How do you feel now?” Steve murmured, licking a drip of sweat away.

“Pretty...pretty goddamn good,” Billy said.

* * *

 

Billy slumped against the stairwell on the top step and Steve stopped with him. Billy looked far too pale, especially compared to his usual tanned and sunkissed self. Steve wrapped an arm around his waist and stood there with him. They were so close to his room, just a few more steps…

They’d camped out on the couch and eaten their bologna sandwiches and Billy had kept everything down so far which he’d been doing successfully for a while now. They watched TV and drank crappy iced tea from a mix that wasn’t cold enough and then made out and fooled around on the couch. Steve kept trying to check in, and make sure Billy had enough strength to so much as wrap his arms around Steve but it was a sensitive subject. Billy could be touchy about it.

Now he looked like he was about to pass out. 

“Shit,” Billy muttered. His eyes were a little red but he only clenched his jaw. “ _Shit_ … I need a...hold on.”

“Take your time,” Steve said softly. 

“I _hate_ this.”

“I know.”

“No,” Billy said darkly. “You don’t.”

No, Steve supposed. He didn’t. Billy had always had his own strength to count on, or for the past few years probably. Now he was as weak as a kitten and it didn’t help that he probably wanted the two of them to be banging like there was no tomorrow. Billy definitely didn’t have the strength for that right now. It must be so frustrating, Steve thought.

“You want a cigarette?” Steve said.

Billy smirked at that. “Jesus. Now I _know_ you feel sorry for me.”

“Let’s just chill out here for a second and have a smoke,” Steve said. They’d get ash in the carpet but that didn’t matter. Considering his parents had been gone since the beginning of summer, the house was in decent shape. The Party, for all their middle-school rowdiness, wasn’t very messy and tended to be polite about cleaning up to some degree. Anyway, they hadn’t trashed the house the way it would have been trashed if Steve had thrown a party, which he hadn’t done. And wasn’t that sad?

They stood at the stairwell and smoked as Billy leaned heavily half on Steve and half on the stairwell. Steve watched Billy who was glaring at some fixed point as if he was still watching TV, obviously infuriated at how he’d gone from lifting weights and running roughshod over Steve on the court to not being able to get up a flight of stairs without falling over. 

Steve took a drag and watched the spiral of smoke drift away and he leaned over and laid a kiss to Billy’s neck as if it was old habit, as if they’d been going out for years. He saw Billy smile slightly and so continued to kiss him, lazily, with no greater purpose, as Billy stood there, gathering his strength.

Finally, Billy rallied, and Steve helped him along and into his room. He put his cigarette out in the little ceramic bowl shaped like a monkey that sat on Steve’s dresser and then collapsed on the bed.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard,” Steve said, putting out his own cigarette. He watched Billy slowly crawl up the bed and prop himself up on some pillows, his heavy-lidded gaze drifting over to Steve.

“No pain, no gain,” Billy said. He was lying back now, the hem of that too-tight t-shirt riding up to reveal a sumptuous bit of belly. Steve looked at it, distracted for a moment.

_No pain, no gain_. Yeah, that sounded like a Billy thing to say. How about no more pain ever? Billy had endured and also caused quite enough of it, thanks. 

Steve crawled up next to him, snuggling up against his side, nudging him. “You’re going to get better. You already are. You don’t have to push yourself so hard.”

“Don’t like feeling useless,” Billy muttered. 

“You’re not!” Steve straddled him now, bracing his hands on the headboard behind Billy. “You’re not at all. Jesus, you were teaching the kids free throws before. Couldn’t believe my eyes.”

“I was _bored_.”

“Yeah, it was still hilarious,” Steve said, chuckling.

“Not just that though. I want to…” He looked at Steve with hungry eyes. “Wanna _do_ stuff and I can barely move. It’s bullshit.”

“I dunno…” Steve bit his lip and ground down into Billy, feeling him getting hard. “Some of you can definitely move.”

Billy threw his head back. “Ah… But… But I wanna…”

“I know.” Steve leaned forward and nudged Billy’s mouth open and kissed him hard enough to distract from his own frustration. He rocked against Billy, feeling the both of them harder and harder through their shorts, and just that was so good, he couldn’t speak. Billy tugged at the hem of Steve’s Scoops shirt and helped him take it off, throwing it on the floor. He saw Billy’s eyes light up at the expanse of skin on display. He pressed his palms to Steve chest and Steve leaned forward, going to work on his neck. 

“I can take care of you,” Steve breathed in his ear. “You...hardly have to move. I’ll…”

“You think I’ll let you call all the shots in bed... _ugh_...pretty boy?” 

Steve leaned back and saw the funny expression on Billy’s face and taking a gamble, he licked his lips and said, “Yeah. I do. You like it. You like it when I’m _King_ Steve.”

Billy looked unmistakably like he’d been found out for a moment and Steve rocked hard against him until he gasped and ducked his head again to suck a hickey to Billy’s neck. He upped the pace of his rocking, the two of them rutting against each other. Steve slid his hands up Billy’s shirt, rucking it up. He pinched Billy’s nipple and Billy groaned and his head turned one way and another.

“ _Steve_ ,” Billy said. His voice sounded much different than it ever had before. He looked at Steve, his wet, red mouth open, his icy blue eyes glassy and wide. The combination of all of it set Steve off and he bounced hard on top of Billy who was still quivering and coming beneath him. The two of them restlessly writhed against each other as they came and Steve felt cum in his briefs and collapsed on top of Billy, breathless. But he knew he’d be potentially hard again not too long from now. He rolled off Billy and took off his shorts, tossing them on the floor. His briefs were gross now but he didn’t care even as he felt a drop of cum slide down the inside of his thigh. He lay on his side and leaned on his elbow beside Billy who was scrambling to take off the Camp Sunshine 1982 shirt. Billy tossed it aside and sat back again, looking alert yet exhausted.

Billy looked over at Steve and smiled slyly. “You got some kinda bedside manner, Harrington.”

Steve grinned widely. He leaned on his hand and settled the other on Billy’s bare chest and leaned over for a moment to kiss his shoulder. “I’m only this nice to very special patients.” He kissed Billy’s shoulder again and pressed another open-mouthed kiss to his chest. He surprised by a hand tangling in his hair. Billy combed his fingers through Steve’s thick locks, and Steve rested there on Billy’s chest. He hadn’t expected anything so tender, assuming that the only reason their fooling around wasn’t much more...aggressive was because Billy was so weak now. Was he wrong?

“Tell me something,” Steve murmured. He drew a square on Billy’s skin with his finger.

“About what?”

“Anything. About you?”

Billy didn’t talk for so long that Steve thought he probably wasn’t going to. That was okay. Billy didn’t have to talk if he didn’t want to.

“I saw you on the beach.” Billy said it so softly, Steve almost didn’t make it out. “In the place where I was when…”

“Yeah.”

“I saw us fighting,” Billy said. “But then like… I saw us seeing each other for the first time only it was different than how it really went. Sometimes I saw stuff I wanted to see and then I saw nightmares. If I’d tried, I might have learned to control. I wanted to stay there forever, but it never would have been real.”

“Stay there and do what?” Steve whispered, not sure he wanted to know.

“Make a world I liked. One where my mom was alive and my dad was gone. And I could just be on the beach and I’d make you like me…”

Steve sat up a little, leaning on his elbow again and stared at Billy. “That was your fantasy world? A place where I liked you?”

Billy cracked a grin at that and laughed harder than Steve had seen him laugh in a long time. “You think I’m only into you as of what? A few days ago? _Harrington_.” He was looking at Steve like that was absurd.

“Since when then?” Steve said, his voice going up to high.

“Forever,” Billy said, looking shy now. His cheeks were rosy either from sex or being embarrassed. It looked a lot better than that unnatural pale color.

“Had a weird way of showing it,” Steve said dryly.

“I know.” His light expression darkened now and Steve kissed his chest to show all was forgiven. It wasn’t a little thing either. But Steve figured saving his life and almost getting killed for it was a pretty strong way of turning over a new leaf.

“What’s your favorite movie?” Steve said, laying down again. He went back to drawing shapes on Billy’s skin.

“Um... _The Godfather_ ,” Billy said.

“Really?” Steve chuckled at that. It seemed like a weird choice for Billy. “I’ve never seen it. It looked boring.”

“Oh Jesus, we’re watching _The Godfather_ ,” Billy said, sounding a little huffy. His chest rose and fell with his breathing and Steve moved with it, smiling to himself. He walked his fingers up Billy chest and circled his finger around a nipple, watching it pebble up.“Why, what’s your favorite movie?”  


“Well, it’s not _The Godfather_.”

“C’mon.” Billy tugged on his hair and Steve bit his lip. He pinched Billy’s nipple, making him gasp a little. He catalogued the reaction for later. 

“ _Arthur_.”

“ _Arthur_?” Billy said with a snort. 

“It’s funny!” Steve said, feeling mildly defensive. Most of his favorite movies were comedies. He put on the best impressions of Dudley Moore and John Gielgud he could summon and recited, “‘Hobson, do you know what I’m going to do? I’m going to take a bath…. I’ll alert the media.’” The accents were bad and he was a little hoarse and speaking softly, but Billy laughed and Steve bounced on his chest through it and Steve grinned, holding him a little tighter.

“So I have tomorrow off,” Steve said.

“Yeah,” Billy said. “What’re we gonna do to pass the time?” 

Steve sat up and abruptly swung a leg over Billy so he was straddling him again. He leaned down and brushed Billy’s lips with his own; once, twice, until Billy chased the kiss and Steve licked his tongue. 

“I have no idea,” Steve whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO I know that the average reader at the end of this chapter might expect a big sex chapter about Steve's day off after this but there isn't one sorry lol.


	10. Chapter 10

_A month later…_

 

_He was fighting the other bigger monster and it hurt, everything seemed to hurt because he had to fight off the darkness that threatened to overpower him and control what the body was doing at the same time and he was going to die...He was going to die but he could see now in the dark and empty fair lot, there was Max and the rest of them. They would be okay if he could beat it. He had to beat it because if he didn’t he’d be stuck on the beach with both nightmares and pretty lies, knowing he’d left them all to get killed and he’d failed and he wasn’t any better than his dad...but the pain..._

_“Billy.”_

_“Hurts…_

_“Hey, Billy. It’s okay. Come back to me. You’re okay.”_

_Steve stood in the fair lot, looking at him adoringly and whispering in his sweet voice as if he wasn’t a big, slimy bloodthirsty beast._

_“I got you, baby.”_

Billy felt solid arms around him and warmth returning and he was ripped out of the fair lot all at once. Steve was holding him, whispering in his ear.

Billy rolled over in bed and faced Steve, rubbing his eyes. “I’m alright. What time is it?”

“Ten,” Steve said.

“What!” Billy sat up with a start, eyes wide. “You’re late for work!”

“It’s Thursday,” Steve said. “Afternoon shift. It’s a short one too.”

“Oh.” Billy snorted and lay back down and Steve climbed on top of him, kissing his way along Billy’s neck. “Hmm…”

“We can do anything you want tomorrow,” Steve murmured. “We can go on a drive. Or we could go play putt-putt in Terre Haute?”

“Sure,” Billy said, wrapping his legs around Steve, pulling him closer. “I gotta get to the mall with you today though. Apply for some shit.”

“There’s no rush,” Steve said, frowning a little. But he got distracted by the stubble on Billy’s chin and brushed his lips against it until Billy made a noise of appreciation. 

“I’ve been solid for two weeks,” Billy said, raking his nails down Steve’s back as they lazily pressed together, their cocks waking up, pressed between them. “And we gotta plan now. Time to put it in action. I get a job. We put some money together…”

“Get a place,” Steve said, grinning. But he bit his lip and squinted at Billy. “Are you _sure_ -”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Billy rolled his eyes. “Hawkins is a shithole. But we got unfinished business here. I get it. I just wanna…” Billy flushed and his heart felt swollen. He chewed on his lip and mumbled, “Just wanna be with you. Wherever. Doesn’t matter.”

“What about the asshole?”

“I think Susan’s about to kick him to the curb,” Billy said gleefully. “Max put her foot down. She’s not standing for it anymore.”

Steve laughed into his skin. “You sound so proud.”

“I _am_.” 

Billy’s stomach rumbled and Steve laughed, rolling off his boyfriend and getting to his feet. “C’mon. Let’s eat.”

They were naked and Steve grabbed the track pants hanging from his hamper, slipping them on and heading downstairs, not waiting for Billy. Billy took his time, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He had gotten about six hours, which wasn’t bad. The two of them kept staying up late into the night and until sunrise sometimes even though it made Steve useless at work if they did it on the wrong day. There was just so much to do, not just in bed but in general. Some nights they just talked, sitting out by the pool, smoking and sipping beers and talking until dawn. Sometimes Steve drew Billy and then Billy would whisper in his ear what a great artist he was until Steve turned appropriately red.

Billy had been afraid of that kind of thing at first. It meant Steve was getting to _know_ him. He had figured that couldn’t be good. Yet it kept _working_ somehow and bringing them closer and closer. He found himself laughing genuinely more than he ever had. Some days he went along with Steve to the mall and just chilled there for hours and other days, when Steve was at work, he was home and browsing Want Ads and cleaning up around the house, and reading and lifting and doing whatever struck his fancy. And whenever they weren’t talking by the pool or in bed, they went out, because Billy got antsy as hell while Steve was at work all day.

He hated to admit how much he wanted a job, even a crappy mall job.

He rolled out of bed and pulled on his Levis, not bothering to button the fly. He went to piss before padding down to the kitchen where Steve had turned on the radio and was now bopping around the kitchen.

“Pop Tarts!” Steve announced.

“Hell yeah,” Billy mumbled, and sat on a stool. Steve slid a Coke down the counter and he caught it in his hand. Their eating habits were all over the place. Sometimes they had something approaching a real breakfast like today. Other days it was leftover pizza and some days it was a sleepy, half-hungover nibbling of Kraft slices and Fritos.

Pop Tarts and Coke, for them, was considered a responsible type of breakfast. Steve put strawberry Pop Tarts in the toaster and then ran out to get the morning paper and skidded back inside.

They sat at the table, bobbing their heads to Aerosmith, eating Pop Tarts as Steve read the comics and the sports pages while Billy skimmed the news, waiting impatiently to get Sports from Steve. 

“You wanna see a movie when I get off?” Steve said.

Their major activity when they went out was movies. They had logged a lot of hours at the Starcourt Multiplex.  Billy was already wary of having to settle for a job there and working at the multiplex seemed like a terrible option. It was always packed on summer afternoons and over the whole weekend and there were always screaming kids and he knew you had to scrape gunk off the theater seats.

He was hoping for a job at the Sam Goody or the Walden Books. Everything else but the multiplex was a second choice, the food park was a third choice (although it did get extra points because Steve worked there) and the multiplex was a last resort.

“Haven’t we already seen everything?” Billy said.

They had no discerning taste with all the time on their hands. So far, Billy’s favorite movie of the summer was _Pee-wee’s Big Adventure_ which had looked beyond dumb going by the poster but during which he’d laughed so hard he thought he might be having an aneurysm. 

He’d already seen _Pee-Wee_ three times, twice while Steve was working and he’d had nothing else to do.

“We haven’t seen _Teen Wolf_!” Steve said.

“Alright sure,” Billy said. “Jesus, that Michael J. Fox must be rolling in it after this summer.”

* * *

 

“What is _that_?” Steve was reading over Billy’s shoulder and he plopped down at the little cafe table at Scoops were Billy was filling out a job application for Walden’s as Max and Eleven sat across from him, pouring over a _Teen Magazine_. 

“What?” Billy said. He scratched his neck, catching his reflection in the mirror behind the counter. Steve had taken him for a hair-cut a week ago. His hair was fuller and now only brushed his shoulders. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it. “I’m writing in my extracurriculars. They love that shit.” He absently played with his hair, frowning.

“Hey, your hair looks great,” Steve said, reaching out to tousle it. “You look like Patrick Swayze.”

Billy blushed at that and pretended he didn’t, his eyes returning to his application. “Whatever.”

“Anyway, you weren’t in  _band_?” Steve said, laughing. He pointed to what Billy had filled out already. “Or the Young Businessmen Association? _I_ was in that and I know you weren’t, I would’ve seen you before falling asleep at every meeting.”

“They’re not going to check,” Billy said rolling his eyes. 

“They’re really not,” Max said, not raising her eyes from her magazine. Eleven watched the whole conversation, looking amused.

“If I’d known that, I would’ve filled out my applications very differently,” Steve said darkly. He grunted and went back behind the counter again and Billy smirked, watching his ass as he walked away. 

“How’re you guys?” Billy said to the girls, tapping his pen on the table. 

“Cool,” Max muttered.

“Cool,” Eleven agreed.

Billy raised an eyebrow at them, slightly dissatisfied that he was being ignored. Without warning, he swiped the magazine away and cackled as he looked at the quiz they’d been pouring over. “How to know if _he’s_ the _one_? Well, number one question, are you goddamn fourteen-years-old? Then he’s not the one! Since when do you even read _Seventeen_ anyway, Maximus Dorkus?” 

“Ugh! Gimme that, dickhead!” Max said, grabbing at the magazine. He laughed at her and held it out of her reach and she huffed and leaned on her hand, giving in. 

“Mike is the one,” Eleven said solemnly.

Billy put up his hands. “I’m not arguing with the girl who can throw me across the mall.”

“That’s wise,” Max said, scowling. She smirked at Billy and said, “Why don’t _you_ take the quiz?”

Billy felt every bit of heat in his body rush to his face and his eyes went to Steve behind the counter, now putting on his most charming grin as he helped a customer because when Billy was nearby, he was always a much more cheerful employee, if an exceptionally distracted one.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Billy mumbled.

Max and Eleven shot each other disbelieving looks.

“Everybody knows now,” Max said. “Nobody cares. _Well_ , okay, Mike and Lucas and Dustin were weird about it _at first_? But I guess Dustin has a gay uncle and-”

“Okay okay,” Billy said, rolling his eyes. “Whatever. Fine. You know. They know. Everybody knows.”

“Do you love Steve?” Eleven said, in that innocently brazen way she had.

Billy opened and closed his mouth and his lips twitched.

Max said, “Of course, he loves Steve. Have you seen them?”

“Then he’s the one,” Eleven said, shrugging. The magazine floated from his fingers and as he was distracted and then shocked since he still wasn’t used to her powers, it came away easily and floated down to the table. 

Eleven politely dabbed her bleeding nose with a Scoops Ahoy napkin and Steve hissed from behind the counter, “ _Jane_! What did Hopper say?”

Eleven looked mildly sheepish and said, “No powers at the mall.”

“So? Quit it! Don’t make me tell your dad!” Steve threw up his hands and rolled his eyes, just as quickly spinning around to go about making a sundae. 

Billy didn’t realize he was sappily staring at Steve until Max triumphantly said, “Yep! Steve’s the one.”

“Oooh!” Eleven pointed to a picture as the pages had turned. 

Max gasped and nodded. “ _Yes_! You should totally do that!”

“I don’t know how,” Eleven said, frowning.

Billy didn’t grab the magazine this time, but he slid it over the table a little just so he could see the picture they were looking at. The model in the photo was just a couple years older than them and done up in glammy makeup, a purple glitter star painted over one eye, and her hair teased up to high heaven.

Billy nodded at the picture and said, “I could do that.” He sat back in his chair, crossing his arms, waiting for Max to disagree. “If you want. I don’t have purple glitter. I have some _black_ glitter I haven’t used…”

“What?” Max’s voice went up high and heads turned near them to look. “You’re so lying. You can’t do make-up.”

“Max, what do you think was in those make-up cases you stashed in my duffle-bag?” Billy said. “It was...wait for it... _make-up_.”

“Cool!” Eleven said.

“Haven’t busted it out lately,” Billy said, shrugging. “Might as well though. Now I’m out of the house.”

Eleven and Max gave each other some kind of look that meant they were having a silent conversation Billy didn’t understand and Max said, “Okay. We’ll come by tomorrow and you can show us how to do it.” 

“Pbblth.” Billy stuck out his tongue. “Yeah alright.” It would actually be kind of fun. He had a whole stash he’d managed to keep under Neil’s radar, but even under that reign, he’d worn eyeliner to school and sometimes mascara, painted his nails black, futzed with this or that eye shadow alone in his room just ‘cause. 

“I can even trade you for it,” Max said knowingly. “ _I_ have a secret.”

Billy put on a bored expression and crossed his arms. “What secret could you possibly have that I’d care about? Dustin wets the bed?”

“Ew! No!” Max leaned forward and she looked genuinely happy now, the light in her eyes changing as her entire demeanor turned suddenly sympathetic. “Neil is moving out. For good. All the way to Indianapolis.”

Billy felt a stupid feeling in his gut that was something like hope and he mumbled, “Believe it when I see it.”

“No, really,” Max said quickly. “Like he’s leaving next week. They’re just not telling anyone. Also...you’re getting your car back.”

Billy’s heart jumped in his chest and he sat forward. “You’re _lying_.”

“No!” She sighed heavily. “They had a big blow out fight, like it was _bad,_ and he threw stuff around the house and stuff and somebody called Hopper on it and he came over. So it was a whole big thing. I think Hopper talked to my mom for a while. About you, partly. And then she got him to agree to give up your car since he’s leaving and he doesn’t need it. Think she might have given him some money for it. So you’re getting it back. You can pick it up when he’s gone. I assume you don’t want it before then.”

“I can wait,” Billy said gravely, but he couldn’t help smiling.

His Camaro. His _baby_...other than Steve, of course.

The thought of getting the Camaro back from the clutches of his asshole dad, put him in such a good move that he felt overly magnanimous suddenly.

“You guys wanna see _Teen Wolf_?” Billy said.

The multiplex, he knew, would be crowded anyway. It’s not like he would get to make out with Steve during the movie. Not without attracting way too much attention anyway. 

“ _Yes_!” Max said. 

“What is _Teen Wolf_?” Eleven said.

“It’ll be fun,” Max said. She squeezed her best friend’s shoulder. “It’s a guy who turns into a wolf but he still has to go to school and everything. Oh. we should get the boys. They’ll want to see it too. They’re just over at Radioshack-”

“Wait a sec, wait a sec,” Billy stuttered. “I didn’t say the Nerd Patrol could come!”

“We’ll just go get them!” Max said, popping up from her seat. She grabbed a giggling Eleven and they scampered off, but not before Max shouted back, “Steve’s paying, right! Thanks!”

“Goddammit,” Billy muttered. They had left the magazine on the table and he found himself absently paging through it after he finished his job applications.

Steve plopped down across from him then and flatly said, “Why are you reading _Seventeen_?”

“Because I need to know the latest back to school fashions and some tips on how to French for the first time, _Steve_. Why do you think?” Billy held his palm out and said, “Gimme a pen.”

Steve grabbed a Bic from his apron pocket and gave it to Billy. He took off his hat and leaned on his hand. He was on break, and he spent it watching Billy awkwardly check boxes in the magazine with his left hand, his arm half hanging off the table.

“What are you _doing_?” Steve muttered.

“Hold on…” Billy frowned, tallied up his results and grinned. “Aha! Turns out my special guy is the _one_ after all.”

“Yeah?” Steve perked up, grabbing the magazine. “Cool!”

“Oh my God, it doesn’t _mean_ anything!” Billy said, cackling. “It’s _Seventeen Magazine_.”

“Still nice,” Steve said, turning a little pink.

“Hey Steve, I’m getting my car back,” Billy said, he couldn’t help his toothy grin. 

“What! Holy shit!” Steve lurched across the table, throwing his arms around his neck. “That’s awesome!”

“Yeah.” Billy leaned into the hold before Steve pulled back again. Steve was looking at him like the world was some kind of beautiful place just because Billy was getting his Camaro back. 

Steve slid his hand across the table and squeezed his and Billy’s heart did that jump thing again. “Let’s go in back, huh?” Billy said, nodding to the back room. It was a habit at this point. Nobody ever found them when they fooled around in the cleaning supply closet. Robin, who supervised the place even though she was exactly Steve’s age, didn’t seem to give a shit in the least.

Steve checked his watch and nodded quickly, popping up from his seat and grabbing Billy’s hand. “ _Yes_!”

Billy was feeling _better_. 

In fact, he found that he felt better than he had before the monster. He also smoked a lot less. Sometimes he looked at his body and it felt as if he were wearing a different skin than the one he’d worn before. 

So he felt just fine when Steve gripped his hips and shoved him up against the door of the supply closet. Billy chuckled into his mouth and his hands reflexively went up the back of Steve’s shorts and gripped his ass, lifting him up off the ground a little. 

“ _Billy_ ,” Steve whispered in his ear, in a desperate kind of tone he’d taken to using since the first time he’d been inside Billy. “I _need_ you.”

Tonight, Billy knew, Steve would spread him open slowly and with great care before sliding home. The thought of it made Billy hard in his jeans now, as did Steve’s cock that was grinding against his thigh. Billy turned them around and knelt, looking up at Steve as he yanked down the royal blue shorts and Calvins hiding an already massive erection.

All Steve managed to say was, “ _Oh_!” And then Billy engulfed Steve in his mouth, or as much as he could anyway. He strokes Steve’s base, sucking in his cheeks, always keeping his eyes on Steve because that was a _thing_ with Steve. He liked to be looking into Billy’s eyes during.

Because they were pressed for time and in a vulnerable location, Billy wasn’t slow or delicate. He swirled his tongue around Steve, humming as he drooled around that thick cock, his knees a little sore on the hard floor. Steve bit his lip hard, throwing his head back as he bucked his hips but Billy expected that. Steve had trouble controlling himself. It only turned Billy on really. All at once, Steve was coming and Billy coughed around him but held on a little longer, feeling him pulse and throb, hot in his hand as thick, salty jizz slid down his throat. He watched Steve calm down, catching his breath, his mouth hanging open as he looked down at Billy and stroked his blonde curls. 

“I love you,” Steve said, blinking dumbly. He shook his head. “I mean...I mean…”

Billy knelt there on the floor and stared up at him. He staggered to his feet and ran a hand through his hair. “I-”

“No no!” Steve waved a hand. “I mean, you know how...I didn’t mean…” He yanked his shorts back up. His face was a bright red. “I gotta go back to work!”

Billy watched him shut his eyes and grimace as he passed by as if mortified, before he blew out the door, leaving Billy to follow after him. Billy felt like he was walking in a fog. He wandered back out to the dining area of Scoops and picked up his job applications, intending to go turn them in. When he looked back, he saw Steve still very flustered and trying hard to concentrate on a customer.

Billy bit back a smile and all but skipped out of the ice cream parlor.

* * *

 

The entirety of The Party was in front of the Starcourt multiplex, hopping around and hooting and joking and probably all hopped up on sugar after a long day at the mall. Billy leaned against the wall, still sipping an Orange Julius, as he waited for Steve to get off work. The supervisor at Sam Goody had seemed impressed by Billy, mostly owing to his looks and his style which he’d mentioned would bring in the girls. 

Billy thought he had a good shot at it.

“Billy!” Lucas Sinclair appeared in front of him, bouncing on his toes. “ _Rocky IV_ comes out in November!”

“I know.” Billy talked around his straw, chewing absently. “It’s gonna be awesome.”

“You wanna see it together when it comes out? Nobody else cool likes _Rocky_.”

Billy opened his mouth, a snarky comeback on the tip of his tongue and then shrugged instead. “Sure. Pencil me in, Sinclair.”

“Cool!”

“Billy!” Max was jumping up and down. Billy suspected this had something to do with her Pixies Stix obsession. Even now, she clutched a straw full of glorified sugar in her hand as Eleven played with her hair. “Where do you get purple glitter?”

“Claire’s might have it?” Billy said, shrugging. He crossed his arms, his head involuntarily bobbing as it matched the motion of Max bouncing like a Super Ball in the middle of the mall. 

“We looked!” Eleven reported. Lucas appeared next to her and played with another lock of Max’s hair and then he and Eleven were battling each other with long locks of red as if they were swords, while Max jumped, her eyes big and focussed on Billy. 

“Oh.” Billy shrugged. “You know what, screw it. Just get regular glitter-”

“They have that at the arts and crafts store across from Melvald’s!” Max said gleefully. “But-”

“Shut up, shut up,” Billy snapped. He tossed his empty Orange Julius in a trashcan. “We get regular glitter and mix it up with something clear that doesn’t mess up your skin like uh...suntan oil or aloe vera...”

“Yes!” Max said. She high fived eleven. 

“What are all of you doing here?” Steve had arrived, still in his uniform, his hair a little mussed. He glared at the horde of middle-schoolers, even as he handed Dustin a baggie full of absconded chocolate sprinkles.

“We’re all seeing _Teen Wolf_ ,” Dustin said. “You’re paying, right?”

“ _What_?” He looked at Billy helplessly.

“Don’t blame me,” Billy said, shrugging. “They’re your rugrats.”

Steve sighed and he dug out his wallet and trudged off to the box office. Billy shoved through the group and stood behind him, covertly tweaking Steve’s hips through his shirt. You could get away with a whole lot in Hawkins, or at least more than Billy had always assumed. But especially at the mall. Nobody was paying them any attention at the mall, too dazed by the lights and everything else vying for a person’s attention. Billy glanced around and then quickly kissed Steve’s neck while cupping his hand and pretending to whisper a secret in his ear.

Steve leaned into him and said, “How many, um-”

“Eight,” Billy said, leaning back again.

“Wait!” Lucas said. “My sister’s on her way! My mom’s bringing her from Buster Brown’s!”

“Goddammit,” Steve muttered. He glared at the cashier as if it were his fault. “ _Nine_. For _Teen Wolf_. Jesus.”

“Isn’t this movie too old for Erica?” Steve said around a bite of popcorn minutes later.

They were all seated, Billy and Steve stuck in between the seven kids who surrounded them like some bulwark. Except that they kept leaning over Steve and Billy’s laps to talk to each other.

Lucas leaned forward to talk to Steve. He was next to Max who sat next to Billy. “She’s allowed to see a lot of stuff,” Lucas said. “Except we told my mom this was a kid’s movie about a dog.”

“It’s not a total lie,” Billy said, sucking on a Red Vine.

“I’m not taking the rap for that one,” Steve muttered.

“I don’t care!” Erica declared. She was seated on the other side, between Dustin and Will. “I want to see Michael J. Fox. I’m going to marry him!”

Eleven seemed to think that was very funny, having somehow heard it from the opposite end of the group and she leaned forward to smile at Erica. “Like me and Mike! And your brother and Max! And _Billy and Steve!_ ”

Billy flushed three shades of red and all the kids went quiet except for Max who was laughing uncontrollably, a bucket of popcorn in her lap as Lucas rolled his eyes at her. 

Erica gasped and looked up at Steve. “Are you like my cousin Charlie? He has a boyfriend! He lives in Chicago! He goes to parades!”

Billy snorted a laugh, his eyes watering because it was all so stupid and so hilarious and he could not understand how he had gotten from being a monster to _this_ very different kinda dumb bullshit. 

And the weird part was, it wasn’t really so bad even if the kids were totally annoying a lot of the time. 

Anyway, school was starting soon. Then they’d all be wrapped up in their own little high school dramas and he and Steve would get some _real_ time alone.

He told the part of him that felt actual affection for them to shut the hell up.

“Yeah, it’s kinda like that,” Steve mumbled, his face red as he slid down a little in his seat, looking like he wanted to disappear.

“SHHHH!” Dustin hissed. “The movie’s starting!”

“Are you okay?” Steve said to Billy suddenly, whispering in his ear.

The lights were playing off Steve’s face as an ad for the movie concessions played on the screen; a candy bar dancing with a soda pop. It made Steve look surreal and beautiful. Except that Steve always looked beautiful, but Billy liked seeing all the different ways he was beautiful. 

“Huh?” Billy said, blinking dumbly. “Uh yeah. Why?”

“Um… What I said before?” Steve whispered, his eyes looking far too concerned. “I didn’t like...I….”

“Did you mean it?” Billy said quickly. 

“Uh…” Steve licked his lips. “I mean _yeah_ but there’s no...pressure. Or… Look, just don’t ever say it back if you don’t mean it, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t.” Billy said, smiling easily, as if Steve wasn’t clearly losing his mind. He sat back in his seat and reached over to grab some popcorn from Steve’s bucket.

Steve looked at him like a lost puppy, seeming bereft, and he sat back, frowning now as he angrily shoved popcorn in his mouth and Dustin reached over to steal a handful.

Billy left Steve hanging through all three previews and just as Michael J. Fox came onscreen and Erica Sinclair squealed beside them, Billy leaned over and whispered in Steve’s ear: “I love you too”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the lovely comments on this! I really appreciate it <3.


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